


Cobwebs and Crows

by NotWeird



Series: OCs For The Ages (RWBY) [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Miscommunication, Not as dark as the tags make it seem, Signal Academy, Teacher-Student Relationship, Who better to guide a student away from a drinking problem than an alcoholic?, but not romantically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWeird/pseuds/NotWeird
Summary: Of all the people to catch her with a bottle of whiskey in an abandoned alleyway, Mr. Branwen probably isn't her worst choice. Still pretty bad, because now she has six month's detention, but not the worst. And hey, who better to guide her away from the path of problem drinking (not that she had a problem to begin with) than a dusty old alcoholic?Because it's easy to forget that yes, Qrow is (canonically) a teacher at Signal, which means he comes into contact with hundreds of students every day and not all of them can have happy, stable home lives (he sure didn't).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY and make no claims to.
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is also cross-posted on FF.net under the same name. General, story-wide warning for mentions of alcoholism, abusive parents, and plenty of cursing. Will not have a romantic student-teacher relationship though the characters will probably grow fairly close.

Lumi double checked the area around the mouth of the alley she was in for the third time in twenty minutes. A ragged sigh broke past her lips as she shook her head. Paranoid, she chastised herself. There was no one around and she knew that. She’d seen with her own eyes and heard with her own ears that she was alone.

Unless, an irrational corner of her brain pointed out, someone shared her Semblance or something close to it and could hide in the shadows and was watching her _right now_. 

She whipped her head around at the sound of glass breaking, but the car alarm that went off immediately after assuaged her that her immediate area was as empty as she was trying to make herself believe. She still felt like someone was watching her, but not nearly as much. 

The purple eyed girl raked a hand through her too long bangs and sucked in a deep breath. Grimm, she was as jittery as her father after an extra-long shift and he usually knocked back a full pot and a half of coffee when that happened. His love for the beverage had naturally rubbed off on her, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than a mug of dark brew coffee topped with whipped cream and sweetened with a liberal amount of caramel creamer. 

“I need a drink.” She sank to the ground and stared at the sky. “It’s been too long.” 

Lumi pulled out her Scroll and checked to the messages between her and her GastlyGurl139. “ _5 min_ ” read the text, but that had been eight minutes ago and she was already twelve minutes late by the time she’d texted her. If she hadn’t already promised the goods from GastlyGurl to someone else, she’d have left long ago. She weighed the possibility of being able to grab a cheap, corner store coffee before the other woman showed up, but decided the risk was too great. Obviously Gastly had some pressing issue that delayed (and probably irritated) her, so the likelihood of Lumi being the unwilling recipient of a temper tantrum was too high to ignore. 

Lumi had enough temper tantrums to deal with at home, thank you very much. Especially this last weekend… 

She opened Timblr, unwilling to dwell on her less than perfect life, and scrolled through her dashboard until Gastly showed up. The other woman wore a limited edition enamel pin on her cardigan as proof of her identity. They spoke little, exchanged goods, then Gastly walked off. From body language alone, Lumi could see that the other woman was pissed off, which proved her hypothesis 

Lumi tucked the pack of cigarettes into her coat pocket and waited until the older woman was five minutes away. Maybe it was paranoid, but the short wait made it so she wouldn’t run into her clients on the way home. She didn’t want to know where they lived or for them to know where she lived. 

That was her intention, anyways. 

“Hazelwood,” a gruff, familiar voice called from- _above her_? 

Oh fuck, she _was_ being watched, it wasn’t just paranoia! Lumi full body flinched at the sound of her name and made it two short steps before the source of the voice _flickered into existence_ in front of her. 

“Hi, Mr… Bran-wen…” She smiled with forced cheer. “Fancy seeing you here.” In Patch. The island where Signal Academy was. Where he taught. Where she was enrolled.

Fuck.

“Hey,” Qrow shot back, less than amused. “So, what are _you_ doing here afterschool?” 

“Enjoying the weather?” She fixed him with a shaky smile. 

“Oh, really?” He placed one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. “I heard somethin’ about you ‘needing a drink’…” He motioned to her and the dark metal ring on his hand flashed in the sun. 

She frantically glanced anywhere but her teacher and quashed the urge to try to smooth talk her way out of the situation. Convincing random police that she was giving money to the homeless so they could buy food (not so they could buy alcohol for her) was easy, convincing her _Hunstman teacher who definitely saw her exchange a bag of dubious goods for alcohol and tobacco_ was a whole other ballpark. 

“Unless I was hearin’ things?” The corners of his mouth quirked up in a cynical grin- a smirk, her mind frantically screamed at her, determined to be correct despite the futility of it. 

She kept quiet and smoothed her thumbs down the length of the strap, frail smile still plastered to her face. While he had authority over her at school, that didn’t mean jack squat outside the classroom, so she could conceivably tell him to fuck off and be on her merry way. 

Except for the fact that he knew her name (had been her teacher for years), and his word would be enough to get her expelled with only the barest of evidence. She didn’t even want to contemplate how easy it would be for him to knock her out and snoop through her things. 

“Not gonna talk, huh?” He sighed and glanced skyward for just a second. 

In that brief time, Lumi’s mind conjured the wild idea to throw the bottle forward and to the left, then while he was distracted, run like an Alpha Beowolf was after her in the opposite direction. All she needed was a split second to activate her Semblance, as long as he didn’t recover too quickly…

“Hand over your bag,” he demanded quietly. 

Quietly? _Quietly?_ Her hands spasmed around the leather strap and pulled it closer to her pounding heart. Who demanded things quietly? Oh Grimm, what if he unlocked her Scroll and read all her messages, which had details on other deals she was running? That would get her expelled and in jail quicker than she could blink. And while Beacon accepted students with less than stellar pasts, what would they think of a convicted criminal? She’d never make it. Two years at Signal- wasted. 

Despite her racing mind and screaming nerves, Lumi smoothly raised the worn leather over her head and held the bag straight out. 

His six foot plus frame easily towered over her five foot four self, but he remained at roughly arm’s distance at all times except when he reached for the knapsack. She appreciated the small consideration despite the fact that she was forking over her schoolbag which had a full bottle of whiskey in it and oh Grimm she was really fucked now wasn’t she? At least the cigarettes were in her po-

“Empty your pockets too,” he prompted offhandedly as he rifled through her things, bottle tucked under his arm. 

Damn. 

She covered the cigarettes with her Scroll and placed her earphones on top of the pile. With her right, she dug out her keys and a tube of lip balm. She held onto the items until he motioned her forward. 

With one arm curled around a bottle, and the other supporting her bag, he didn’t exactly have a lot of reach so she stepped close enough to smell his breath (what a weird measurement) and dumped her belongings in his arms. 

He smelt slightly of alcohol, which surprised her exactly none because his drinking problem was well-known even if he didn’t drink during class. Or rather, said he didn’t drink during class. It was hard to prove one way or the other because he was a veteran Huntsman and thus much quicker and craftier than her or classmates. It didn’t matter to her, unless he was the kind of drunk that like to knock people around. Even then, he didn’t seem _drunk_ drunk and probably wouldn’t hit her. 

She was safe. 

As safe as she could be considering that she was in trouble. Being in trouble meant having to make up for it, a concept she had learned at a young age from her mother. But what could she offer him in return? More liquor? He was old enough to buy his own- why make a sixteen year old to do it? Oh, perhaps a seamstress? It wasn’t widely known that she could sew, but if could spy on her for over twenty minutes without her catching him then it would be easy enough for him to have overhead her talk about her hobbies. His cape was rather tattered…

Qrow sighed lightly and looked Lumi up and down while she was lost in thought. A faded black sweater with spiderwebs sewn on the elbows, well-worn skinny jeans ripped at one knee, scuffed sneakers and dark grey hair done in low twintails. Mostly covered pale skin and dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her bag was full of the usual junk kids carried around (notebooks, pens, gum wrappers, etc) but it also held a bottle of over the counter pain pills, and a note reading “45 lien, 524B Oak Street.” 

Suspicious, and when tied to the larger picture, worrisome. Lumi Hazelwood had divorced parents, was quiet in class and a history of coming to school injured. He caught her making a trade in a random alley for a bottle of whiskey so cheap it might as well be paint thinner and a pack of equally cheap cigarettes. He was far from being the most involved teacher, but even he couldn’t ignore the obvious. 

He remembered his own first forays into drinking, stuck without guidance and so sick of dealing with all his problems that falling into a drunken stupor was better than thinking clearly. 

“Look, Hazelwood,” He looked her in the eye. “What’s all this for?” 

“I don’t know.” She didn’t meet his gaze. 

That wasn’t an answer, but whatever. He had the feeling that if he wasn’t careful she’d clam up completely and that was a pain he didn’t want to deal with. 

“Whatever’s going on at home, drinkin’ won’t solve your problems,” he pointed out. 

“I know,” she refuted, a touch of steel in her tone. 

“Oh good, you know,” he mocked. “Then you also know that you oughtta be expelled from Signal for even having this crap.” 

She hunched her shoulders and pursed her lips but said nothing. No defiant declarations, no tearful pleading, no furious shouting. 

Ugh, that was the wrong thing to say. A short while ago he was lounging on the roof with his trusty flask and now he was dealing with a sullen teenager on the road to alcoholism. Fun. 

As it was, he had two ways to deal this. He could report her, fill out all the annoying paperwork to get her kicked out or suspended. Alternatively, he could let her go, hope that getting caught would scare her enough for her to stop and consider what she was doing with her life. 

She didn’t look like she was an alcoholic, too fresh-faced and alert for that, but once you started drinking to run from your problems, you never quite stopped- he would know. 

He groaned mentally. Too much self-reflection. He wasn’t qualified for shit like this, for guiding “wayward youths.” That was Ozpin’s schtick. 

So what would that old owl do? 

“You _should_ be expelled, but I’m gonna cut you deal, kid,” he shifted his weight to his other leg. “Detention for one hour afterschool, with me, for six months. No ifs, ands, or buts.” He stayed that long anyways, having her around wouldn’t step on his freetime. 

Her jaw clenched as she bit her tongue. It was a good deal, she knew it was, but she barely had enough time in the day as it was and there were her younger siblings to consider. Ash would be thirteen soon, and while she didn’t want to submit to this punishment, she’d have to trust that he was old enough to be in charge of himself and Nocte. 

“Okay,” she yielded with a pent-up breath. 

If her teacher was surprised, he didn’t show it, merely nodded and passed back her things- aside from the contraband. 

“You start tomorrow,” he instructed then walked off. 

She spun on her heel, shouldered her bag and left as quickly as her legs would take her. At least she didn’t feel like she was being watched anymore. 

________________________________________

Lumi reflected on the past week while she straightened up the weapon’s workshop. Detention wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be. Mr. Branwen only asked that she help him clean the class, or do her homework quietly while he worked. She could even eat as long as she cleaned up after herself. 

As it was, she usually spent the first fifteen or twenty minutes cleaning up the class and the rest of the time doing schoolwork or designing potential outfits. Despite being in her third year, she still didn’t have a proper Huntress outfit and she wanted to at least nail the design by the end of the year. 

She picked up a weapon handle that was laying on the floor and flipped it over in her hands. It belonged to some sort of sword, a big sword at that, judging by the crossguard and length of the handle. There weren’t any buttons to signal that it did anything other than its obvious purpose, and the craftsmanship was nice enough for a student even though it was missing a pommel. Why was it on the floor? 

She wrapped both hands around the handle and found her answer. She could comfortably fit both her hands, but if the crossguard was any indicator, then the person who made it was considerably bigger and needed a couple more inches to use it two-handed. No matter, she held it in her right and assumed the basic stance for fighting with a baton. A couple experimental attacks later, she conceded that the crossguard was throwing off her technique and tossed the handle into the scrap bin. 

Lumi flinched and screamed internally at the sight of Mr. Branwen leaning against the doorframe. 

“Having fun?” He strolled into the classroom. 

“Just practicing,” she replied and busied herself with straightening out the already neat shelves. 

He snorted but said nothing else.

Lumi sat back at her seat when her nerves settled and jotted down a few themes she could base her Huntress outfit on. One that kept popping up was “police” but as useful as a thigh holster was, she wasn’t prepared to commit to cargo pants for the foreseeable future. 

Teacher and student worked in silence until the hour was over, then Lumi packed her things and left. One week down, twenty three more to go. 

________________________________________

Monday of week two brought a small change to the established equilibrium. Qrow was slumped over his desk by the time Lumi walked in, and only raised his head long enough to see that it was her before he laid his head back down. 

Questions sat on the tip of her tongue, but she refrained from asking them. It wasn’t her business, and it would be inappropriate considering that she was here as punishment. She took her usual seat and pulled out a book on Aura healing. It was weird to break routine, but she doubted making a racket while cleaning would help her teacher’s- hangover? Head cold? Fatigue? 

Whatever it was, he barely stirred for the duration of the hour. She slipped out of the class and eased the door closed behind her when she left. 

Tuesday, when she had class with him that wasn’t detention, he passed out worksheets and informed them there’d be a quiz Friday based on the assigned reading listed at the top of the packet. 

And that was it. He sat at his desk, grading papers for the entire class period. Detention was more of the same, so she continued reading her book on Aura healing instead of cleaning. Better safe than sorry, and better to face the enemy another day than die for glory. 

Coincidentally, that was exact reason she was learning about Aura healing. Her mother, when Lumi and her siblings went over for the weekend, liked to take Lumi out to the Forever Fall forest and hunt Grimm. Which was to say, because Verbena Hazelwood was not a gentle soul, she would drag Lumi out to the forest to watch her fight Grimm then spar when Lumi looked ready to drop. It lead to a lot of bruises, gashes, sprains and/or fractured bones. On rare occasions, it even lead to broken bones. 

That fact, combined with her well-honed skill of consciously manipulating her Aura to speed her own healing, lead her to an interest in Aura healing which could be used to help others. Signal had a few books on the subject, and poking around bookstores in Vale led her to a few more. Publically available books (that weren’t medical textbooks) offered basic triage and first aid tactics, but didn’t go in depth about things like healing broken bones and treating someone who’d been poisoned. Still, it was better than nothing, and she hoped Beacon had more on the subject. 

Three quarters of the way through the hour, Qrow sighed and leaned back in his chair. 

Lumi looked up from her book, and weighed the benefit of finding out what was wrong with her aloof teacher versus not drawing attention to herself. When he didn’t move for three minutes straight, she figured she might as well- he was definitely out of it. 

“Mr. Branwen?” she queried softly. “Are you okay?” 

He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it, kid, I’m just behind on grading. Teacher stuff.” 

“Do you,” she paused a breath to gather courage, “need help?” 

“Know the three most Aura receptive metals off the top of your head?” he challenged. 

“Not really, but don’t worksheets have keys?” She ducked her head and twirled a strand of her too long bangs. 

“Point,” he grumbled. “You might as well, this is detention,” he teased. 

Lumi immediately regretted her instinctual act of placation and self-preservation, but got up anyways to take the half-marked stack from Mr. Branwen. It was never a good idea to annoy a Hunter in a bad mood. 

They corrected papers in silence. A half hour ticked by without note until Lumi stretched her arms over head and sighed loudly. 

Qrow glanced at her, then at the clock. “Thanks kid, but your hour’s up.” 

Lumi nodded pleasantly and gathered the completed pile. “See you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder as she scooped up her book and walked out. 

“See ya,” he shot back. 

On Wednesday, her red-eyed teacher looked well enough to tolerate noise again so she resumed her routine of cleaning and working on her own things. The rest of that week and most of next continued as usual. That Friday, however, she received a call midway through cleaning. 

“I need to take this, I’ll be-“ Lumi glanced at the door then back at her teacher. 

He nodded. 

She scurried out and hit answer before she made it to the hall. “Hi…” 

The door closed and cut off the conversation. In the hallway, however, Lumi was frantically denying accusations from her mother that she was trying to skip her weekend visit. Why did she have to do this now? She usually picked them up at six, and it was barely three! Unless she was drinking again… 

Qrow finished cleaning the workshop and plopped down in his less than comfortable office chair. His quiet little student was taking her sweet time on the phone. He hoped she hadn’t run off, because he was beginning to grow mildly fond of her and would hate to have to hunt her down. 

He sighed, ruing the day he accepted a job at Signal and the accompanying responsibility, and made his way to the door. He poked his head into the hall, but didn’t see her. 

Great. 

He could, however, hear her, indistinct as it was. His feet carried him down the hall and around the corner, where she sat on the floor next to a water fountain. She was crooning softly into her Scroll, kind reassurances and I love you too’s. 

It was weird as hell. 

“If you’re talking to your boyfriend, tell him you’ll call back later,” he deadpanned. 

A look of disgust immediately crossed her face. At the sound of a muffled voice, her expression settled back to doe eyed and gentle. “No, no, that was just a teacher,” she murmured. “Yeah, I have club right now, remember?” A beat passed. “I love you too, but I need to get back to my club, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, good night.” 

Lumi smashed the “end call” button. “That was my mother.” 

“Noted,” he said. 

From her tired shoulders and pinched brow, he figured her issues with her mom were part of the reason she drank (not counting whichever parent it was that was hitting on her), but he wondered if she’d confide as much in him. She wasn’t particularly talkative to begin with. A large part of him hoped she would work through her issues by herself, with no input from him, but the corner of his heart that was reserved for his adorable nieces twinged in sympathy. 

Traitorous organ. 

“You wanna explain what all that was?” He prompted half in dread, half in hope. 

“No thanks.” She smiled at him. “Besides, I still have…” She checked her scroll then grimaced. “Thirty minutes left of detention.” 

“You’ve got my ear for an hour every day, if you need to talk to someone.” He shrugged. 

He tried to quash the small feeling of dismay when she responded with another smile and got to her feet. He should call Ozpin and get some advice. Hell, he should have done that in the first place. For as much as he wanted to help, to keep her from going down the same path as him, he was out of his league. 

Back in the workshop, he fought against the urge to dial the meddlesome old man then and there. Hazelwood smiled at him every time she was in his line of sight, even peripherally. It was more than he’d ever seen her do and went so far past “weird” that it jumped straight into “bizarre” and “possible alternate universe.” 

He suffered through the last half hour and sighed in relief when the door closed behind her. Then he dug through his pockets for his Scroll and hoped his Semblance wouldn’t crash a tower just to spite him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This idea has been on my mind for a while now, so I figured it deserved to be written down. I've gone through a couple of versions of this, but this is the one I like best. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I plan to update on Monday afternoons, though I don't have much written after this chapter so we'll see how dedicated I really am.


	2. Chapter 2

Lumi strolled through the front doors of Signal Academy on Monday morning, slightly high off pain pills. The weekend she and her siblings were supposed to spend with their mother ended up being a mother/eldest daughter excursion to Forever Fall on Saturday and nothing else. In the forest, Verbena Hazelwood’s foul mood had attracted a particularly vicious pack of Ursa which she let Lumi handle, alone, because she “didn’t believe in coddling.” 

Grimm dogged them everywhere they went- even when Lumi tried to eat. The most annoying part had been when a small bird-like Grimm swooped in and smashed her nose with a strong wing. Blood had gotten onto her sandwich, and while she didn’t consider herself a particularly cruel or sadistic person, she relished killing the annoyance and spitefully enjoyed the rest of her not-bloody lunch. 

She left the forest far more banged up than usual; fractured left arm, bruised cheekbone, minor cuts and scrapes with a smattering of bruises. A day of healing had done wonders, especially since she slept for most of it, but unless she directed her Aura to heal certain wounds first then her body would slowly heal everything at the same time. Bruises would heal at the same rate as cuts and her fractured arm, hence, the pain pills. 

She’d fail a drug test if she took one, but the pills in her bag were prescription so she was probably okay. She planned to sell what she didn’t use, and she planned to use the barest amount she could get away with once she stopped feeling like her body was punishing her for living…

The grey haired girl abruptly realized that she had been staring at her blank notebook for the past eighteen minutes and wondered when she’d made it to history. She blinked owlishly and picked up her pen to take notes. 

She wavered between hyperfocused on the weirdest things and mentally drifting like a plastic bag in the wind for the rest of her day. Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, she couldn’t keep a thought straight for longer than a couple of minutes (or for shorter than fifteen), and her body ached but she persevered out of a stubbornness that ran deep in her bones.

When the day was finally over, she stepped through the door to the weapon’s workshop and decided that detention was the best part of her day. The workshop was quiet and the only other person in the room was Mr. Branwen so she didn’t have to worry about being sociable. She settled herself at one of the tables, despite how unbalanced she felt sitting on the hip-high stool, and- 

Except, it seemed, she did have to worry about being sociable? When did he get so close? His mouth was moving but Lumi couldn’t focus on the noise. Hands were interesting and weird but so were lips and teeth and tongue. Why did humans speak by forming shapes with their mouth? Who came up with language? Did humans crawl out of Dust with a language or did it form over time? Why did some people have accents? When-

“Woah, kid, slow down there,” Qrow placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently to get to focus. She was rambling worse than Ruby did when she started talking about weapons. 

It seemed to work. His purple eyed student quieted, at least, though her gaze remained stuck on his mouth. 

“Is there something on my face?” He raised a brow. 

“It’s nice,” she said, raising a hand to reach for his bemused visage. 

What the fuck? “Right,” he said and slowly pushed her hand down and away. 

He considered the situation. A female student he had taken under his wing, so to speak, was (probably) high considering how _off_ she was, covered in bruises and staring at him. The school wasn’t exactly empty, but there weren’t a lot of people around to ask for a second opinion. He himself was a functional alcoholic (emphasis on the functional) with only minor experience in dealing with teenaged girls and was trying to intervene in his student’s fledgling drinking habits before it became a real problem. 

Only now it seemed that she had picked up a drug habit too and if in her delirium she confessed that she was being abused at home he’d have to make some very uncomfortable phone calls very soon. 

“So, where’d the bruises come from?” It was probably unethical to interrogate someone who was high, but what did he care? It wasn’t like she would volunteer the information any other time. 

“Grimm,” she said. 

What. 

She held up her left arm and rotated it in place as much as she could. 

When she’d first taken off her sweater, Qrow figured the one weird glove was a fashion statement of some sort. Now that he was close, he could see the glove covered four fingers and the top half of her palm. The rest of what he had assumed to be a glove was some sort of plastic, honeycomb cage with clips on the side. 

It took a moment, but then it clicked in his head that she was wearing a cast. She was wearing a cast because something or _someone_ (because signs pointed to a person rather than a creature despite her claim) had broken her arm. 

His mouth went dry at the thought. “When did you fight Grimm?” 

Lumi didn’t answer, too focused on the curves and lines of the honeycomb cast and how every hexagon was defined by its neighbors but also itself. 

A warm, callused hand gently gripped her gloved fingers. “Focus,” her teacher said. 

She stared at the contrast between their hands. “Saturday; in Forever Fall. Do you go there? Often? The leaves are so nice.” 

“Not particularly,” he admitted. “Were you by yourself?” 

“No,” her hand spasmed in his light hold. “There were a lot of Ursa. I think they were eating the tree sap.” 

Still holding his hand, she raised her left arm in a defensive position above her head and slowly swung her right arm as though she had her baton. Her limbs hovered in the air a second too long, then she dropped his hand and her arms. 

As unclear and ephemeral as her thoughts were, she had a well-honed instinct of paranoia and secrecy that prevented her from telling him (or anyone) anything about the less than savory aspects of her life. 

“Was anyone else with you beside the Ursa?” He probed. 

“A Beowolf,” she ran a finger along the seam of her half-glove. 

“Anyone human?” He drawled. 

“Why do humans have language?” she countered inelegantly. “But not Grimm?”

Answer the question, he mentally snapped at her but refrained from voicing the thought. He remembered how quickly his own temper used to flare and didn’t need her running. 

“Dunno, kid, I’m only a Weapons Instructor,” he shoved a hand in his pocket and felt the warm metal of his flask. A drink sounded way better than coaxing details out of a not-all-there-student. 

Lumi stared at a spot just past him, face twitching minutely as she lost herself in thought. 

He looked her over, bruised cheek, messy grey hair, dark eye circles with too big clothes and sighed. It was like his Semblance had been suddenly changed from “bad luck” to “worse luck and also everything is awkward.” 

When he tried to probe for more information, she rambled about something else or gave too short answers. The harder he pressed, the more frustrated she grew, until eventually she hissed at him to go away. The shadows in the room grew darker and seemed to coalesce beneath her seat for just a moment before they flickered and everything returned to normal. 

He figured it was her Semblance and a not so subtle hint for him to fuck off. 

So he did, because he wasn’t an idiot even if he was hopelessly out of his element- heroes save people and he was decidedly not one of those (despite what adorable little nieces may claim). 

Qrow plopped himself at his desk and dragged the ungraded stack of papers closer while Lumi spaced out on her Scroll- and he should really prohibit her from using that because detention was supposed to be punishment but that would probably lead to her storming off or breaking something and he was a little wrung out from trying to get a straight answer out of her about what she was doing fighting Grimm. Not worth it, he decided as he marked down a student for an incorrect answer. 

Lumi packed her things a little early that day, stomach rolling and clenching at random, and scurried as quickly as her feet would take her to the airbus headed home. Her (too) inquisitive teacher barely looked up from his work, but if her Semblance had been reading minds instead of hiding in shadows she’d have known how internally conflicted he was. 

As it was, she only had shadows, so she didn’t feel too bad. Besides, as nauseous as the pain pills made her, the thought of pulled pork sandwiches waiting for her at home was too good to pass up.

________________________________________

On Tuesday, Qrow got up a half hour early and stared his scruffy reflection in the mirror. His plan yesterday had been to implement some of Oz’s advice, but that hadn’t exactly happened on account of his… mentee? fledgling? What the hell was her title? His quiet little _problem-student_ showed up looking rougher than usual with an obvious injury.

As often as he realized it these past three weeks, the feeling of being out of his element jarred him and left him feeling a little less steady than usual. He’d get over it, of course, it was just a matter of how long and how much it would take of him. 

_“Provide an open, safe space and encourage her to speak freely. Students, especially those going through a difficult time, will open up if you hint at, but do not ask, certain questions and offer up personal anecdotes.”_

Ugh, fuck off Oz. Well, memory of Oz. He knew how to get people to open up (hello his oldest friend, alcohol) but counseling and guiding youths was a little outside his skill set. 

Some distance away, Lumi ran a hand through her too long bangs and sighed heavily. She’d been an idiot to ramble so much yesterday, and blamed the pain pills twice because her memory of his questions was so fuzzy. She was rarely so talkative, and even if she hadn’t given much away about her home life she felt paranoid that Branwen would put the pieces together and call Child Protective Services. 

CPS was a nightmare waiting to happen, a monster disguised as “concerned adults” with their vacant smiles and pitying eyes, eager to take her from her home and away from her siblings. 

The lead pit in was her stomach grew heavier at the thought. She really didn’t want to go to school today. If she hadn’t fucked up so badly last month and gotten herself detention, she would skip class altogether. Skipping class after she showed up with visible injuries, however, was almost an even stupider idea than getting caught in the first place. 

So Lumi curled her hands a little tighter around the cup of coffee and let the soothing sounds of anarcho-punk rock wash over her. 

By lunch her nerves had calmed, in part due to the fact that her second period class was with Branwen and he hadn’t treated her differently- unlike Aryl who lingered too long by her desk when she lectured and _stared_ at her with questions tucked just behind her sympathetic eyes. 

She bit her sandwich a little too harshly and flinched at the feeling of her teeth slamming together. 

When she walked into detention for the day, Branwen was typing something so she slipped into her seat and pulled out math homework. A quarter of the way through the worksheet, she looked up and caught her teacher’s disgruntled expression. He grumbled, slammed the backspace key a few times and pushed away from the computer. 

His chair spun with a creak and he saw her for what it seemed like the first time that day. “Hey, kid.” 

She nodded in return, lightheaded from the pain pills but more in control of her tongue. 

“You wanna grade some papers again?” He motioned to the messy stack at the edge of his desk. “There’s not enough hours in the day for all the crap they want me to do and it’d really help me out.” 

“Sure,” she verbally responded only because a nod was a tad too flippant and she didn’t feel like founding out where his limits on disrespect were. 

She hesitated in her seat whether or not to approach him for the work, but he made the decision for her and plopped the pile at her elbow. 

“The key is… in there somewhere.” He shrugged and walked back to his desk. “Knock yourself out.” 

They worked in companionable silence- well, silence on Lumi’s part, Qrow grumbled about pushy counselors and slow computers. She finished the grading before the hour was up, and gingerly approached the desk to set it down. 

“Thanks, kid,” her teacher spared her a quick grin then went back to hammering out an email. 

She nodded, still unwilling to talk, and walked back to her worktable to finish up her math. 

That general pattern continued for the rest of the week, with Qrow pushing his work onto her and making comments. On Wednesday, it was that the weather was changing (was it really? She side-eyed the window; last week felt equally windy and cool) and how he was thinking of getting a new coat. Thursday’s one-sided topic was still the weather and a new coat, but how difficult it was to find one that was made for Huntsmen without being ridiculously expensive. 

She commiserated with him, but kept quiet. As a teacher with no children and no spouse he certainly had more money than she did, so he probably knew where the best clothing stores were for Hunters. She could only offer tips and tricks for shopping at thrift stores or civilian shops, which wouldn’t be helpful unless he was lucky enough to find an old, marked down Hunter-grade coat in the clearance racks. 

She wasn’t even that lucky, and she didn’t seem to have a stroke of bad luck a mile-wide like he did. How all of his markers were dry, exploded in his hand or went missing altogether, she’d never know. 

On Friday he switched to what sort of coat to get, and offhandedly asked her opinion. It was at this that she grew suspicious- everything he’d said up to it could be passed off as rambling, but asking _her_ for fashion advice? She answered anyways. 

“It depends on what you need,” she shuffled the worksheets about and avoided looking at him. “Does it need to come off quickly? Or is the look of it more important?” 

He hummed and propped his head on one palm. “Depends where you’re fighting at- wouldn’t wanna lose your coat in Atlas, that’s for sure- but let’s assume it needs to look good and come off quick while in Vale.” 

Lumi fiddled with the green pen in her hand as she thought. “Some sort of diagonal zipper,” she motioned from one shoulder down to the side of her sternum, then down to her waist. “With pockets that zip close too, so nothing falls out.” She watched the pen go flying from her hand skitter across the table. 

Well fuck. 

She got up and went to retrieve it while her teacher continued, “Diagonal zipper, huh? I guess that’d look cool.” He sat up a little straighter. “Know where I could find something like that?” 

Yes, because she knew how to sew. Would she tell/remind him of that fact? Definitely not. 

“Sorry, I don’t know,” she sat back down and dedicated herself to the grading. 

Qrow bit back the sigh that threatened to slip out. “Hm, thanks anyways, kid.” 

She was done with grading not long after, but pulled out her homework when he wasn’t looking and worked on that until just before the hour was up. She didn’t think he was a particularly chatty person, but apparently he was? She packed her bag for the day, dropped off the graded work and went home, all the while thinking back on her time in Branwen’s class. 

He was a fairly popular teacher, both for being handsome in a bad-boy way and because he “told it like it was.” Now that she thought about it, he did spend a good bit of class walking around and poking his head into people’s business- usually for weapon advice, but he wasn’t opposed to talking about other topics when the mood struck him. 

Approachable, cool, relatable- she could see why so many people liked his class and him in particular. When contextualized like that, his random comments didn’t seem so random. Maybe he was just naturally talkative? She was the only one to talk to in detention. 

Her nerves settled in her stomach as she let herself into her room and flopped onto bed. So it wasn’t her specifically that he wanted to talk to, it was just that she was there. The thought lifted pressure from her shoulders. She wasn’t sure how to deal with people (adults especially) who poked into her life, but being bored and making small talk she could handle. 

Lumi rose out of bed and padded over to Ash’s room. A quick peek revealed that her younger brother was painting, aka in Do Not Disturb mode, so she closed the door behind her and popped her head into Nocte’s room instead. 

White hair whipped around as she spun around in her chair. “You’re home!” 

“Yeah, just got back,” she let herself in and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you know what you want for dinner yet?”

“Uh, not really,” the younger girl scrolled through something on her Scroll and kicked out her legs. 

“Chicken tacos?” Lumi offered. 

“Sounds good,” Nocte chirruped. “Can you make me a snack though?” 

The grey-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Sure, brat.” 

She shot her a cheeky grin. Her mood quickly changed when her Scroll buzzed with a new message. “Dad said he’ll be home late tonight...” 

She sighed. “Alright.” 

“But it’s Friday, Lumi!” Nocte frowned. “Tell him you said to come home earlier- he listens to you.” 

“I can’t,” she looked away from her sister’s puppy dog eyes. 

She humph’ed loudly. “Whatever.” 

Lumi resisted the urge to lecture her youngest sibling, again, that their dad was “always at work” because he had to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. It was hard going from a two-income household to one income (even if their mother did send child support money) but eleven year olds weren’t exactly renown for putting cold logic before their desire to spend time with their dad. 

And if she was going to be honest, she missed her dad too. But being the oldest, and a whopping sixteen to Nocte’s eleven and Ash’s twelve (nearly thirteen!) meant she had to be strong for them and sooth over troubles because their absentee mother certainly wasn’t going to do it. 

“I’ll call you when your snack’s ready,” Lumi pushed off from the door and shut it without looking back at Nocte. 

She trudged to the kitchen to slap together a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (strawberry jelly, because Ash hated grape for some reason) and take the chicken out the freezer for dinner. 

Her thoughts drifted to her history homework, and fashionable coats with diagonal zippers…

________________________________________

Normally on Fridays, their mother picked them up at six o’ clock and kept them until six o’ clock Sunday, but because Lumi’s arm was still in a cast the trio of siblings were left with their dad.

Lumi was grateful, mostly because she couldn’t fight Grimm or spar in her condition, but also because she dreaded spending time with her mother. She just wished their break from the woman hadn’t come at the cost of her fractured bones. 

Nevertheless, she enjoyed her weekend at home and divided her time between the internet, homework, her brother and sister, and solving Branwen’s coat problem. Finding a coat with a zipper that wasn’t straight up and down was tricky, but she found a few in one boutique’s online store. It wasn’t a store she was familiar with, but she wrote down the name, price, and what it was made of on a scrap piece of binder paper anyways and handed it over during that Monday’s detention. 

Branwen looked her up and down, then at the paper before he took it. “This is…?”

“You said you wanted a jacket,” she shoved her right hand in her jean pocket. “I found one that matched what you talked about.” 

Well, Qrow thought to himself, I dun fucked up. He wasn’t actually in the market for new clothes. He’d only said that because it was the first thing that came to mind when he was trying to get her to open up last week. Now, however, if he didn’t show up to school with a new jacket that matched his vague list of wants, he’d look disingenuous (ha, take that Tai, he did know words larger than three syllables). 

“Thanks, kid,” he carefully placed the paper next to his keyboard. “So how was your weekend?” 

“It was okay,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder. “Is there any work to grade today?” 

“No, I’m all caught up,” he motioned in a sweeping motion and internally sighed at what a non-answer “ _okay_ ” was. 

She nodded, feeling as though her social quota was met for the day, and sat at her usual spot. The purple-eyed girl pulled out a book and flipped to a page marked with a torn corner of something that might have once been a receipt. 

Qrow stared at her, then turned and stared at his computer screen. On the one hand, she was invested in their conversations (even if those conversations were mostly one-sided ramblings on his part) and gave enough of a shit to personally hunt down what she thought he wanted. On the other hand, she still didn’t seem that interested in spilling her guts to him and getting help for whatever was going on at home. 

Granted, this was the start of their fourth week together, but you couldn’t blame him for hoping she’d have an epiphany and start on the road to recovery on her own. Hell, he knew where the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous met (even if he didn’t go) and would gladly point her in the right direction if she ever asked. Unfortunately, one of the tenets of the Nine-Step Program was that you couldn’t force recovery and that addicts had to seek help on their own if they were ever going to make it. 

Not that he would know anything about that, no sirree. 

Qrow snatched up the scrap of paper and searched for the store online to distract himself from his thoughts (and denial). 

Lumi read her novel, oblivious to her teacher’s inner turmoil and panic, until the hour was up then packed and headed home. That would be unremarkable by itself, but she actually said goodbye before she took off so she felt proud of herself. Her small talk at the start was apparently enough to grant her quiet for the entire time! 

Not that she hated Mr. Branwen or anything, but her still hazy memory of his questioning last week combined with her fear of slipping up didn’t exactly make her want to speak to him any more than she had to. She would still be polite, of course, because she wasn’t an idiot who liked to antagonize people with power over her immediate fate, but that was all she was willing to do.

________________________________________

The next day she had actual class with Branwen, and he maintained his usual behavior of walking around the class and helping students or stopping to chat at random. Nothing changed in detention either, though he did start talking about food after making an offhand comment about the store she’d found for him.

Skinny as he was (not that Lumi could really judge), Branwen had strong opinions about what was and wasn’t food. For example, roasted lizard? Food. Cheeze Pom-Poms? Also food, in a pinch. Salads? Not food- who the hell wanted oily leaves with nuts and fruits thrown in? Just eat the nuts and fruits by themselves, no need to ruin them with pepper and vinegar. 

Twenty three rant filled minutes later, Lumi pointed out to her teacher that his microwave meal might be cold. What she didn’t say was that Mr. Piper was the school nurse and probably knew what he was talking about when he said that everyone should add salads to their diets if they weren’t already eating them and cut out all the excess sodium that microwave food had. 

Branwen lightly sneered at his cold chicken nuggets but popped one in his mouth anyways, grumbling about secret salad supporters. 

Lumi thought about the container of enchiladas in her bag and resisted the urge to flaunt her lovingly made meal (that she made, but it was still full of love). Instead, she mentioned that it was easy to make meals at home that tasted good and were healthy. 

“Imma level with you kid, they don’t pay me enough for all the hours I spend on work,” he bit out between one spoonful of fudge brownie and the next. “And you can only eat so much cafeteria food before you lose your taste buds. There’s nothin’ wrong with E-Z Made dinners as long as it’s not the only thing you eat.” 

He nodded as if imparting some hard-earned, life-shattering wisdom- as if Lumi didn’t already know only eating E-Z Made dinners were terrible for you and ruined your stomach. She remembered, then, the (basically true) rumors that Mr. Branwen was a bachelor with a drinking problem and felt a little more sorry for him and his poorly fed stomach. 

Maybe she’d sign him up for a free trial of those meal-in-a-box services. She didn’t know his address, but finding out which mailbox was his in the administration office wouldn’t be that hard. 

She left deep in thought day, but she remembered to say goodbye and counted it as a continued win in her books. Another win in her books was that because she graded papers, she didn’t have to clean. Cleaning wasn’t difficult, but she did more than enough at home. 

She spent the airship ride back listening to music and wondering whether or not she should pick up Saf’s order now (six cigarettes, two Cola Blasts and four shot-sized bourbons), or wait until the other girl asked for it. Also, if she could get away with the meal in a box thing. 

Hm, decisions decisions…

________________________________________

By Thursday, Lumi had decided against trying to sneakily feed her teacher (no matter how pathetic he looked with partially frozen E-Z Made lasagna) but did decide to get the supplies for Saf’s (a TA for Aryl, the history teacher) order ready ahead of time.

Signal Academy was a boarding school, and with her daily trips to and from Vale (because no way was she leaving her siblings to fend for themselves while she could help it) she had a lucrative business smuggling alcohol to her fellow students. Saf ordered the same thing every Friday, which was a steady source of income and advertisement for Lumi. 

She also did snack runs, in addition to the less than legal things she traded and sold, and sewed in her (incredibly limited) free-time. She liked to think that if the faculty knew how busy she was, and weren’t too horrified that she distributing alcohol to minors, they’d probably be proud of her entrepreneurial spirit and time-management skills. 

As it was, Mrs. Huang (the school counselor) was less than impressed with the Vale-born and raised girl. 

Lumi sipped her Cola Blast and smiled at the older woman. “I told you, Mrs. Huang, I brought this soda from home and only opened it a minute ago.” 

“Likely story, Miss Hazelwood,” she placed a hand on her hip. “Would you care to explain why Miss Aryl’s teaching assistant, Saf, also has the same soda and little bottles of alcohol on the same day you just happen to ‘bring soda from home’?” 

“Cola Blast is pretty common for teenagers to drink,” she deflected. “I don’t know why she has alcohol, especially if she’s a TA, but maybe you should ask her.” 

“Oh, _I will_ ,” she narrowed her eyes at the short-statured delinquent in front of her. “And please trust me when I say that I will find out _exactly_ why.” 

She smiled again, enthusing the look with as much sweet innocence as she could. “Good luck!” She walked away and hoped her heart wasn’t beating as loud as it felt like it was in her ears. 

She and Huang hadn’t ever really gotten along (something about their personalities didn’t click) and the older woman had come close ( _too close_ ) to catching her in the act of selling less than legal things a few times before. She didn’t ruthlessly hound Lumi, but if a fight broke out and no one could get a clear candidate for an instigator, she might just pin it on her and be done with it. 

Which was, of course, unfair as Lumi was known to be a quiet student who did her work on time and to the best of her apparent effort. It wasn’t her fault that she came from a broken home with a disgraced Huntress for a mother, or that Claret Nox didn’t know how when to shut his mouth (so she just had to shut it for him)…

Like she said, completely unfair. 

Branwen was nowhere to be found when she made her way to detention, so she took out a novel (a different one from Monday) and set herself to reading. Her cast would come off, officially, tomorrow but because of the frailty of newly healed bone, she wouldn’t be allowed to spar or fight Grimm. She wanted to feel bad that she would miss another weekend with her mother, but couldn’t find it within herself to care all that much. 

Verbena Hazelwood was the (retired) Huntress with finely-honed reflexes, not her, so she should have knocked aside the Ursa’s attack instead of “testing” Lumi’s combat skills. The fact that her arm had fractured was her mother’s fault, and if she missed out on her weekly beatings for the second week in a row then oh well. 

Lumi took another drink of her Cola Blast and wondered why she was so bitter today. 

She didn’t have an answer by the time Branwen walked in with a chili dog in hand and a feather (?) in his hair, but it didn’t matter much because her weapons’ teacher started talking about a great hot-dog cart in this seedy sector of Vale that really ought to become a restaurant instead because the chili dogs were worth fighting Grimm for. 

She let his words wash past her and left feeling somehow lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So we learn a little more about Lumi and her home life in this chapter- what do you think? I'd love some feedback from you guys (though I won't ever hold a chapter hostage for reviews- that's just childish).
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you lovely readers had a nice day. See you next week :)


	3. Chapter 3

Week five of detention with Branwen passed quietly, with no major incidents to speak of, but week six started with a bang- literally. 

Lumi dropped to the floor, heart in her throat, hand that was previously on the door handle cupped around her ears in protection. Loud cursing immediately followed. She looked left down the empty fluorescent lit hall, then right, then pushed open the door again and peeked her head into the workshop. 

Nine tall, metal worktables in a staggered grid formation; hip high stools with smears of grease, oil and paint along the legs; her teacher clutching his bleeding hand and glaring at a pile of what looked like it used to be a sword. 

Well that explained that. She hesitantly let herself in, hands only shaking a little as she crossed the class to her hunched over and violently cursing teacher. 

“Shit, fuck, ah, hey kid,” Branwen shot her a pained grin that looked more like a grimace. “How’s your day goin’?” 

“It’s- Are you- do you need help?” Her half curled hands (now cast free for two weeks!) hovered mid-air. Her eyes darted about, taking in the details of the scene- blood and oil spilled across his desk, soaked into rags and some poor student’s work; bits of metal and gears and the faint scent of smoke. 

“Nah, this is just a scratch. I’ll be fine with a bandaid,” he tried to wave her off, but his inured hand immediately began gushing when he lifted pressure off it. 

_Pretty big bandaid_ , she thought wryly. 

“I know Aura healing, Mr. Branwen,” her hovering hands straightened out as they flickered alight. 

“That’s…” he trailed off, staring at her hands which glowed white. “Huh.” 

Lumi shifted in place and let one hand return to normal. “Or I can get the school nurse, if you’d like?” 

His nose wrinkled in distaste. “I’ll pass on Piper’s tender love and care. You any good at healing?” 

She shrugged. “For something like this, yeah.” 

Lumi held out her non-glowing hand and gestured for his injured one. Qrow obliged but kept a careful eye on the whole process. Aura healing wasn’t an obscure skill, and anyone with an activated Aura could theoretically learn it, but it was difficult and required more control and focus than the average person really cared to dedicate. 

To perfect it, you needed to practice on actual wounds (though cadavers and hunks of flesh would work too) usually under some sort of stress. Also, at least one year of experience (in some form) to be allowed to work on live patients. 

Random students he’d had over the years had boasted the same, and few had actually lived up to the claim when tested, but nothing terrible would happen if she was as amateur as they had been. Worst case scenario, his own (depleted) Aura would surge and block hers which stung but didn’t do anything else. Besides, the experience would be good for her. 

All thoughts of inadequacy vanished when her aura wrapped around his hand in a soothing cocoon, coaxing his own to seep into the bloody gash. The hand went numb, though he could feel (and see) her lightly pry open the wound to check for debris. She found none and let her aura sink into the skin to encourage the blood to clot. 

“It’ll stay numb for about six minutes, without adding more aura,” she spoke to his wounded appendage. “You should wash it before I do much else.” 

He nodded. “Got it, kid.” 

Lumi raised from her half-bent position and let her aura settle. While her teacher cleaned up, she set her bag and sweater down. She had a bit of blood on her fingers and left palm, but thankfully none of it got onto her clothes. She dragged one of the stools beside her teacher’s chair and quickly washed her own hands before she sat. 

When Branwen was ready, he plopped his injured hand in her lap, smelling strongly of whiskey (did he disinfect his hand, drink it, or both?). She called her aura back to her right hand and set to healing. Nine minutes later, the entire cut had scabbed over and a thin line of new, pink flesh had grown beneath. The light burn that covered the tips of his fingers had healed completely, which she was mildly proud of. 

“It’s best not to heal minor things all the way,” she murmured, purple eyes unfocused even as she lifted her head to speak to him. “A snug wrap around your hand will be fine.” 

“Hm, thanks,” he flexed his fingers slowly. “So how’d you get so good at healing?” 

Her legs twitched beneath his half-numb forearm. “Aura control comes easy to me.” 

Wow, a suspicious and vague response from Hazelwood; he’d _never_ gotten one of those from her before. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed and pulled away from his quiet little student. “It’s a handy skill to have.” 

She nodded, not looking at him, and got up. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?” 

“I was working on a protoype,” he said instead of the smart alec remark that immediately jumped to his mind. “And it malfunctioned… somehow.” 

He didn’t want to say it was his shitty semblance’s fault, but well, it was probably his shitty semblance’s fault. 

“That’s unlucky,” Lumi gathered her things and put the stool back in place. 

She had _no idea_. 

“Yup,” he popped the last letter. 

Silence took the place of conversation as teacher and student mutually ignored each other to work on their own things. Near the end of the hour, Qrow brought up how difficult Aura healing was, especially in the heat of battle or just after because of the adrenaline rush. Lumi smiled and inclined her head, murmured something about how little books were out there when it came to that field. 

That was it. 

Qrow was far too tired from his weekend mission from Ozpin to scrape up more a damn to give, to question why a teenager (sixteen year old? she was about ready to graduate) would not only know about Aura healing, but be able to prove it without activating the body’s natural response to another’s _soul_ brushing up against it and directing it. 

The students he’d seen use or attempt to use the skill were either know-it-all overachievers trying to show off just how _smart_ and _dedicated_ they were, or soft-hearted Healers-in-training (with a hint of adrenaline junkie lurking just behind their gentle smiles) trying to soothe away aches and yank people away from the edge of death. 

It was probably worrisome when contextualized by her history, but that was a worry for tomorrow, when his bones didn’t hurt quite so much and his head didn’t feel so light. 

________________________________________

Tuesday, thankfully, went more like last week than it did like Monday. Lumi walked in, set down her stuff, snagged a stack of ungraded papers (weapon evaluation forms, this time), and made small talk with Branwen for a while as they worked. 

The topic of the day was: still food (for the second or third week in a row). 

More specifically, the best places to eat in Mistral, the city where the owners were just as likely to literally rob you as they were to do the metaphorical same by charging ridiculous prices for everything. (Qrow wasn’t trying to say it was a kingdom of liars and thieves, but what other reason would compel a restaurant owner decked out in more jewels than sense with the need to charge extra for _utensils_?) Lumi took notes on a scrap sheet of paper in case she and her (hopefully future) team ever ended up on a mission in the Kingdom of Mistral (home of celebrities and thieves and celebrity thieves). 

It was a nice day, overall, until a blonde bombshell burst through the door with a sing-song shout of, “HEY UNCLE QROW, LONG TIME NO SEE!” 

(How did she speak in all caps and still have the enthusiasm to convey an exclamation point? Lumi felt tired just looking at her.) 

“What did you do now, and was it cool?” He shot back, eyes still on his Scroll. 

“Uhh,” she closed the door and slunk closer after a cautious glance over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was here the whole time, with you, doing my homework.” 

He snorted and looked up. “What did I tell you about lying?” 

“Make it good or make it confusing, just don’t allow yourself to get caught,” she recited with a nod. 

“Good girl,” he chuckled. 

The blonde took the seat nearest the desk and scanned the area like she was expecting a pack of Beowolves to attack. Her eye caught Lumi’s and she cocked her head. 

“Who’re you?” she glanced at her uncle then back at her. 

Week six wasn’t going to give her any rest, it seemed. 

“I’m Lumi,” she shuffled the papers in front of her. “Third year. You’re B- Mr. Branwen’s niece, Yang, right?” She asked out of politeness despite how obvious the answer was. 

“Yup,” the second year popped the last letter. 

A beat of silence passed between them. 

“So are you like, his TA or…?” Yang pushed on. 

“Uh, yeah, pretty much,” Lumi held up the filled out weapon evaluation forms. 

“Cool,” she grinned. “Think you can maybe fill in some missing points for me, so I can get an A? My dad would lose his mind if my next report card came in with straight A’s.” 

Before Lumi could respond, Branwen cut in. “You’d have to get A’s in all your other classes first for that to happen.” 

Yang turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ve got like, a B in History and I just brought my Lit grade up to a C!” 

If she _just_ brought it up to a C, there was no way she could get an A- grades were being sent out at the end of the week and Tanner was brutal when it came to deadlines (if that was who she had for Lit). Lumi wasn’t particularly religious, but she sent a prayer up to Oum anyways because Yang sounded like she needed all the help she could get. 

The uncle-niece duo bickered a while longer, and were still snarking at each other and talking by the time Lumi’s detention ended. She took her leave as quietly as possible, while the other purple eyed girl stayed behind with her uncle, rambling about a busted motorcycle she had seen and how it would be _such_ a nice present for her birthday, ya know? 

By the time Lumi arrived on Wednesday, Yang was already in the workshop, still slightly on edge about whatever she had done yesterday. She politely waved hi, which the blonde returned with finger guns and Lumi remembered that Yang was Mr. Xiao Long’s daughter. 

She shivered, but kept with her routine regardless of the other girl. Xiao Long was a harsh taskmaster ( _especially_ when it came to running laps) but his daughter wasn’t him- not that Yang had the authority to make her run laps or anything… she hoped. Nepotism was a hell of a thing. She shivered again. 

Branwen strolled in just as Lumi got settled and raised a brow at his _totally innocent_ niece. 

Yang fluttered her eyelashes in a _completely believable_ “who me? Just minding my own business, being good; volunteering in soup kitchens” expression. 

He snorted and threw himself into his office chair. “ _Yeah, right_ ,” his expression said without words. 

Lumi, who had witnessed the near telepathic communication, was impressed but not so impressed or curious as to ask about what exactly the second-year girl had done. 

Branwen was still on the topic of food (with no end in sight it seemed) but instead of Mistral cuisine and street vendors he brought up baked goods- more specifically, how his other niece had an obsession with cookies. 

Yang chimed in with a story of how when Ruby was six or seven, she ate an entire bowl of cookie dough (with her help, of course) while their dad was on the phone, only to throw it all up twenty minutes later. She spoke with her hands, animating and gesturing to show how little Ruby and little her had stolen the mixing bowl and wooden spoons and sat under the table as though it would hide them when their dad came looking.

Lumi smiled despite herself and chuckled quietly. She tucked her pen behind her ear and told her own “zany sibling” tale. “Once, my younger brother Ash tried to make a brownie in a cup- I don’t know _where_ he got the idea from- but set the microwave for way too long. The whole kitchen filled with a nasty, burnt chocolate smell and this thick, black smoke- the smell didn’t go away for hours, even when we opened all the windows and turned on all the fans.” 

Yang threw back her head and laughed, “Haha! Me and Ruby tried making a cake for our dad’s birthday one year- only we had _no idea_ what we were doing and all we had was this _totally ancient_ cookbook that didn’t even **have** any pictures, and-“ 

On and on they went, swapping stories while Branwen chimed in with corrections and smart-alec comments when there was a gap. The pile of grading was neglected, as was any sense of time because Lumi blinked and suddenly detention was over- had been over for thirteen minutes, technically. She bit back a curse and packed her things in a hurry. 

“Sorry to run, but my airbus is going to be here soon,” Lumi slung her bag over her shoulder while handing over the ungraded work. “It was nice talking with you, Yang. Bye, you two!” she called over her shoulder as she fast-walked out. 

Branwen raised a hand in a lazy two-finger salute with his customary “see ya, kid” while Yang shot back a similar statement and finger guns. 

“Well whatever you did hasn’t come back to bite you in the ass yet,” Qrow said and stood up. “So let’s get you home, sparky.” 

“Pssht, I’m definitely like a firecracker, or a bonfire, and not a wimpy little spark,” she huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. 

“Mm, sure, whatever you say,” he tucked his Scroll into his pocket. 

On the way to Tai’s house, Qrow thought about how lively and engaged his quiet little student had been, even though Yang had done most of the storytelling- how she was so quiet with him. Maybe her problem was with adults or authority, and what she really needed was a good friend to talk her out throwing her life away. 

Six weeks of one-sided conversation hadn’t gotten her to open up, but one hour of his bombastic niece sharing embarrassing stories about her sister and the other girl couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It was… a change, that was sure. Maybe he could get Yang to stay once or twice a week and talk with her? He could have a convenient staff meeting to go to, but listen in as a bird in the rafter or open window and find out if she’d confess to problems at home. 

He swept the thought away as soon as the door opened and a whirlwind of red launched itself at him. 

“Uncle Qrow~!” Ruby shouted. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

He chuckled, mind in the moment. “You saw me last week.” 

“I know, that was forever ago!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him inside. “I need help with my weapon design, c’mon!” 

He let himself be dragged with a fond grin.

________________________________________

Naturally, no good thing could last. Qrow walked into his class the next day with a freshly printed stack of papers, ready for his unofficial TA to make into packets, only to see Huang’s firey orange-red hair and tense frame looming over his trouble-making niece. 

Two pairs of purple eyes turned to him, one pleading and frantic, the other shuttered and apathetic. 

_Great_. 

“Hey, Ember,” he called and drew her attention as he loudly dropped the stack on the nearest table. “What can I do for you?” 

She turned on him with fire in her eyes. “Your hooligan niece planted stink bombs in my office, I know she did!” 

He raised a nonchalant brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh. Ya got any proof it was her?” 

“Unfortunately, the cameras have been on the fritz this week,” she sighed with faux-heaviness, thin mouth drawn into a scrunched expression of “what can you do?” She continued, “But she visited just yesterday with some fake concerns about classes for next year!”

“Hey, those were real questions!” Yang interjected, eyes flashing red. 

“So you don’t deny putting stink bombs in my office?” Huang spun on her heel back to Yang, hands on her hips. 

“I never said that,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “You have no proof it was me.” 

“That’s not a denial, Miss Xiao Long.” 

Ugh, this was a headache he didn’t want to deal with. He played with the thought of throwing Yang to the wolves to learn from her mistake, but just as easily tossed the idea aside. He didn’t like Huang enough to give her the satisfaction of getting his niece in trouble, even if she did deserve it. 

“Look, Yang’s right,” he ambled over to his niece’s side. “You don’t have proof it was her. Far as I’m concerned, you walked in here with nothin’ more than accusations and I don’t think Blossom is gonna agree to punish a student for something you _think_ they did.” 

The guidance counselor hissed and drew herself to her full height. “I know it was her, and when the truth comes out I don’t think Blossom is going to look too kindly on you for hiding the truth.” 

He shrugged. “Prove it was her. Until then, I have work to do so see yourself out, ‘kay?” 

He walked away without waiting for her response and plopped down at his desk. 

Ember didn’t scream, but it was a near thing. Why known alcoholic Qrow Branwen hadn’t been fired for his blatant disregard of school rules and basic ettiquette, she didn’t know but she was going to find out and soon. She shot the darkest glare she could over her shoulder as she stomped away, then caught sight of the quiet grey-haired girl ( _trouble maker_ ) sitting apart from the uncle and niece duo. 

“I should have known you’d take in Miss Hazelwood,” she sneered. “Delinquent birds of a delinquent feather, the lot of you!” 

“Bye, Ember,” Qrow shot back without looking up from his screen.

She stormed off. 

Qrow then turned an unimpressed stare at his delinquent niece. Yang avoided his gaze and kicked the foot of a stool. 

Meanwhile, Lumi strongly considered abusing her Semblance to slipping through the shadows and ditch detention. 

What a mess. 

________________________________________

Dread filled Lumi’s stomach as she walked into Friday’s detention, a feeling that was not abated by the sight of messy blonde hair. 

“Hey,” she called and hopped onto her usual stool. 

“Oh, hey,” Yang twirled a finger around a frizzy lock of hair. “Looks like I’m a sorta-TA with you now. My dad was pissed- I mean, ‘disappointed’ (insert finger quotes and a roll of the eyes here) ‘cause what happened yesterday, so yeah…” 

“That’s rough,” Lumi hummed. “I thought you didn’t get caught?” 

She sighed heavily. “Yeah well, Uncle Qrow told my dad and my uncle was already pissy with me for _almost_ getting caught so my dad was all,” she squared her shoulders, crossed her arms and adopted a deeper voice. “ _Yang, baby, I raised you better than this! Think of what kind of example you’re setting for Ruby- and how this is gonna affect blah blah blah_.” She opened and closed one hand with every blah. 

Lumi hummed again in sympathy. From the sound of it, at least the Branwen-Xiao Long family weren’t screaming at each other and breaking glasses. The nerves in her stomach unbundled in a slow release. She snagged the ungraded work from yesterday and a stapler then set to work, in a better mood than when she walked in. 

Four packets in, Yang slid onto the seat beside her and asked, “So is this all you do?” 

Without looking up, Lumi replied, “Pretty much. I used to clean the class too, but once I started grading Branwen took over that.” 

“Yeah, sounds like my uncle,” Yang propped her head in one palm. “He’s always complaining about grading and how he can never read anyone’s handwriting.” 

They sat in silence a little longer. 

“What’s your sister, Ruby, like?” Lumi looked up and caught the other girl’s eye. “Besides a chronic cookie thief,” she added with a teasing grin. 

The floodgates opened. Yang was happy enough to ramble about her sister, her sister’s hobbies, and her own while Lumi graded and nodded along. By the time she finished yesterday’s work and a third of todays, their wayward teacher finally appeared. 

“Where were you?” Yang asked, leaning on her elbows. 

“Staff meeting,” he said. 

That was that, apparently, because he sat down and started typing something. 

Yang picked up the thread of the story she had been telling. Lumi laughed at the younger girl’s antics, followed with her own heartwarming tale about Nocte eating playdough. 

“It was made out of peanut butter, but I didn’t know that because she used to smash all the colors together and it looked the kind of the same as the store bought one, so I start freaking out,” Lumi set aside the last paper with a flourish. “I was about ten or so and she was, maybe, five? Anyways, I dragged her to bathroom and tried to help her throw it up, but she started crying about how she was going to die, and how it was Mrs. Applebloom’s fault for making it, and things like that. I got to thinking, in this weird moment of clarity, that you can’t just make playdough at home, right? Or if you do, you have to know what’s in it, so I ran to Mrs. Applebloom’s house and started banging on the door.” 

Lumi laughed at herself and motioned with one exaggerated fist knocking on the woman’s door. “I probably scared the poor woman half to death, tears in my eyes, no shoes on my feet, hair a wild mess,” she shook her head. “I ask her, ‘ _what’s in the playdough, what did you put in the playdough_?’ and she does this thing, clutches her hands against her chest like she’s trying to keep her heart from leaping away, and goes, ‘ _powdered sugar and honey; peanut butter_.” She tries to ask what’s wrong, I think, but I’m already running home at this point, to tell Nocte the good news.” 

Lumi packed her bag and slung a strap over one shoulder. “Anyways, it’s time for me to go, so I’ll see you next week.” 

“See you Monday,” Yang pulled out her Scroll. 

“See ya, kid,” Branwen called. 

“Bye,” Lumi waved without looking and walked out. 

Qrow waited until he was sure the girl was a good distance away before he turned his attention to Yang. “So what’d you two do while I was gone- plant more stink bombs?” 

She rolled her eyes. “ _No_ ,” she scrolled down the page. “We just talked.” 

“About what, _politics_?” He drawled. 

An unamused side-eye was sent his way. “Ruby, her family, classes- ya know, whatever.” 

He hummed, but didn’t ask more questions. He took his niece home shortly thereafter, and lied to Tai’s face about what Yang did in detention. Nothing too dramatic, he said, except for the fact that she blew up his class and was leaping off roofs trying to fly. 

“YANG XIAO LONG!” Taiyang’s voice was still ringing in his ears. 

Overall, a good day. 

________________________________________

Lumi was not having a good day, despite how much she enjoyed trading stories with Yang only a few hours ago. She dodged her mother’s fist and sent a low kick in return.

It felt like the woman was trying to beat an ounce of blood out of her for every hour she had missed because of her fractured arm. By the time she sat down for dinner, she was bruised and sweaty and sore, barely able to lift her fork to her mouth. 

She fell asleep fairly early that night after a too-short shower, only to wake up early on Saturday with her muscles screaming at her and her formerly fractured arm creaking like it would only take one good hit to break it along the same lines. Between brushing her teeth and eating breakfast she found enough concentration to flush Aura through her body to reduce soreness and lighten (but not completely heal) her scrapes and bruises. 

Which felt the tiniest bit meaningless because Saturday mornings meant one thing: fighting Grimm in Forever Fall forest. And after that, more sparring with her mother. Better still, Sunday would have, you guessed it, even more sparring. Lumi bit back a groan and drove her baton across a Beowolf’s snout with more force than was necessary. 

Despite nearly having her head bit off (again), she somehow made it through the weekend and flopped into bed on Sunday night feeling grateful that her dad was not a Huntsman. She spared a thought for her neglected siblings, which neither parent spent much time with, but remembered that if she hadn’t confessed to her mother that she wanted to be a Huntress when she was young then she would be just as neglected as them. 

Neglect, she felt, was better than getting the shit beaten out of you in a parent’s drive for you to be better than them and bring prestige to the family name. 

With that thought on her mind, Lumi blinked and woke up three hours later. Her head spun and her body ached but she dragged herself to the kitchen and wolfed down enough food to feed three civilian men to quiet her snarling stomach. 

Ash shoved a glass of water into her trembling hands somewhere between plate one and two, and kept refilling it when she drained it. At some point, Nocte joined the pair with a half-empty bottle of painkillers. 

Lumi laid her head on the table while her siblings swept away her mess, and thought to herself that she loved her brother and sister with all her heart and would fight fifty Ursa and eighty Beowolves and thirty Nevermores if it meant they would be happy. 

“If you want to make me happy you can just buy me MisHonored 3.5,” Nocte said in response to what Lumi had apparently said out loud and _not_ thought to herself. 

She gave her sister a thumbs up. “Whaddabout you, Ash?” 

“I’m happy as long as you’re okay,” he stated with conviction. 

“Suck up,” Nocte smacked his arm. 

“Selfish,” he shot back. 

Lumi patted the table. “Shh, I love you both.” 

The younger two elbowed and pinched each other quietly until Ash dug his knuckles into Nocte’s ribs. She shrieked and jabbed her thumb in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Off they went, yowling and batting at each other like rambunctious kittens. 

Oum above that was a cute image. Maybe she could convince her dad to get a cat? She pushed herself up and trudged over to the living room. They lived in a house, and had paid the pet deposit fee thing _just in case_ , so aside from a re-homing fee and food and stuff, it wouldn’t cost all that much. Even if it did, she had a good amount saved up from her less than legal side-job. 

“What kind of cat do you two want?” Lumi called as she rifled through their collection of remotes in search of the one that controlled the WebFlix box. 

“Cat?” Her dad peeked his head around the corner. “Who has a cat?” 

“We should get one,” she said and turned the TV on. “But I don’t know what kind.”

“Uh-huh,” he sat next to Lumi on the couch. “And you just assumed I’d give you three the go-ahead?” 

She side-eyed him. “I’ll pay for it and Nocte can clean the litter box- or it can be an outside cat and we won’t need a litterbox except when it rains.” 

“Convincing argument,” he stared at his youngest two as they raced to the only open spot on the couch. “Except for the part where you think Nocte will ever go near a litterbox to clean it.” 

She shrugged. “Then it can be an outside only cat.” 

“Still haven’t sold me on why we need one,” he raised a pierced grey brow at her. 

“Cats are cute,” Ash threw a pillow at Nocte, who had won the race, then turned off the lights. “We should get a Ragdoll breed.” 

“No way! Munchkin cats are way cuter!” Nocte clutched the pillow to her stomach and snuggled against Lumi’s side. 

“You’re both wrong.” Lumi interjected as she scrolled through the “currently watching” list. “Forest cats are the best.”

Their father shook his head at them all and gave in to the inevitable. “I guess we’re getting a cat?” 

Lumi hit select and the opening sequence for _Daring Devil_ blared across the screen. “Thanks for agreeing, oh father dearest.” 

He took off his square-rimmed glasses and sighed. “Welcome, daughter mine.”

The Hazelwood family quieted down to watch episode thirteen of season three, and Lumi thought to herself (not out loud this time) that a good day looked a lot like watching TV with her family, no worries on her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Also! If anyone is confused, in Chapter 2 Qrow mentioned a "nine-step program" for alcoholics- that wasn't a typo or anything. I'm basing the RWBY version of Alcoholics Anonymous on the real-life one, but changing some parts to make more sense in-universe. I don't think they have a god of any sort, even if Lumi talks about Oum and prayers. Who knows though, what with the "legends" about the Maidens and Wizard being kinda true!
> 
> Also, anyone see the Volume 5 trailer? I'm so excited!
> 
>  
> 
> See you lovely people next week!


	4. Chapter 4

Yang served detention alongside Lumi for another two days before she was set free, and Lumi had to admit that she was slightly sad to see her go. They didn’t become best of friends with only a week of interaction, but having a girl her age around was nice. There was less pressure to watch her words and little chance the blonde would pry into things she didn’t want to talk about. 

Well, she consoled herself, she’d still see the other girl around and it wasn’t like Branwen was constantly digging into her life. 

Lumi tucked her notes from Literature into her cheap paper folder and tucked it into her bag. 

A feminine voice cleared above and slightly to her right. “Hi, Lumi right?” 

“Yes?” She lifted the strap over her head and looked up at the blue-eyed girl before her. 

“I was wondering, if you don’t mind telling me, why you’re always with Mr. Branwen after-school?” The girl-Cerise?- asked with a cute tilt of her head, arms tucked behind her back in an unassuming pose. 

Lumi was immediately suspicious of her. “Why do you want to know?” 

She shrugged, still smiling (Oum, how weird) “I see you around, but when I asked people why, no one knew- sooo I thought I’d ask you!” 

That… didn’t answer her question at all? What the hell? 

“I take the airbus home but it takes a while to get here,” she explained, choosing to ignore the previous fact. “So I hang out in Branwen’s class.” 

“So do you two, like, work on weapons?” She rocked back and forth on her heels. 

Lumi stood up, glancing at the door and the many students crowding it in their rush to leave. “Yup.” She turned and followed the crowd. 

Cerise let her go, whether because she got the all the answers she wanted or because she didn’t feel like hounding Lumi from class to class, Lumi wasn’t sure (but she also didn’t care). Lunch was calling her name and that was the important bit. 

Afterschool, Lumi kept an eye for other students, but the hallway leading to Branwen’s class was practically empty as always. While she wasn’t exactly trying to hide the fact that she spent a lot of time with the Weapons Instructor, neither was she trying to flaunt it. The fact that her classmates had apparently picked up on it was weird and slightly off-putting. 

What sorts of rumors were floating around as to why she was spending so much time at Branwen’s class afterschool? She’d put money on some idiot claiming she was sleeping with him for a better grade (which couldn’t be further from the truth, but teenagers weren’t exactly the pinnacle of logic and rationality). Aside from that, maybe one or two rumors that she was his apprentice? Or that she wasn’t smart/skilled enough to work on her own weapon and needed his help. 

Still, some gut instinct told her that her initial guess was the right one. She didn’t exactly have a robust social life even if she was on amicable terms with most her classmates. That fact left her vulnerable to vicious rumors and harmless hearsay alike. Hell, once there had been a rumor going around that she was attending two schools at once because she missed so many days in her first year! 

Lumi bit back a snicker at the memory of her bewildered fourteen year old self fending off the questions from nosy (but ultimately harmless) classmates. 

“Something you’d like to share with the class?” Branwen’s voice broke her musings. 

She waved him off and settled into her usual spot with her pile of work. “Nothing important.” 

He hummed. They worked in companionable silence until Lumi looked up from the paper she was grading. She weighed her curiosity against the likelihood that she’d get an answer then opened her mouth to say, “Hey, Mr. Branwen?”

Wonder of all wonders, Qrow thought even as he grunted a distracted “yeah?” while fiddling with his Scroll, Hazelwood was speaking to him _first_? 

“Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, or anything…” she fiddled with the green pen in her hand, eyes riveted to the table. 

_You already asked a question_ , he thought snarkily then _no, you idiot, don’t mess this up- this is big!_

“Shoot,” he pretended to be doing something on his Scroll while staring at her from the corner of his eye. 

“Did you ever have any… weird rumors about you when you were in school?” She shifted her gaze from the table to the rafters. “Like, uhm, that you were attending two schools at once, or something like that?” 

He’d had a slew of rumors about him (and Raven) in school- some about his prowess in battle and in bed (all the good ones were founded in truth, thank you very much) but _weird_ ones? He leaned back in his seat and thought. 

“Someone said I had a wooden leg when I was a second year at Beacon,” he tucked his arms behind his head. 

Lumi looked at him with a raised brow. “Like a peg leg?” 

“I guess.” He shrugged. “What about you, kid?” 

“That I was attending two schools at once,” she scribbled a number at the top of the page. “Also, that I was related to the history teacher at my last school; his last name was Hazel and since mines is Hazelwood.” She motioned with her hand in a circle. 

Qrow nodded. There had been a Robyn in his year and more than one person had come up to him wondering if that kid was his and Raven’s sibling. The answer, at first, being “ _Grimm no, what a weakling_ ” and later “ _No, this family is fucked up enough_.” 

Lumi jogged the “graded” stack and set it aside. She glanced over at Branwen, mildly eager to hear what other weird thing had been said about him, but no hilarious story was forthcoming. She shifted in place, grabbed another worksheet to grade, and turned her body towards him. 

“I’m interested” her body language said “talk to me!” 

The companionable silence quickly became expectant silence then slowly became awkward. Lumi felt the weight of waiting on her tongue; her nerves tingled in anticipation. The fluorescent light overhead flickered briefly. Her body language said she was interested… right? All those weird online articles said so, at least. 

Lumi finished the rest of the grading and rolled her pen between her thumb and forefinger. Body facing the other person, arms not crossed, leaning towards them, face open and neutral (but not closed off)- _interested_. Despite that, Branwen scrolled aimlessly on his Scroll, propped one leg on his desk, and lowered it. Repeated with the other leg. 

The stool beneath Lumi squeaked as she shifted in place. 

How in the world had a friendly chat about weird rumors turn into this puddle of awkwardness? Why didn’t he just say _something_? The unspoken rules of conversation dictated that it was his turn to talk. Would it be rude of her to talk instead? Her mother wasn’t one to suffer small talk- but Branwen seemed the sort, judging by the fact that he was constantly circulating the class and talking to students. 

Qrow looked up from his Scroll to see his quiet little student fidget and glance around. What was up with her? He mentally shrugged and went back to composing a response for the message Taiyang had sent yesterday ( _oops_ ). 

Lumi continued fidgeting in place, eyes landing on random parts of the class, the feeling of urgency and needing to speak but not knowing what to say heavy on her tongue. Eight minutes passed before she cracked. 

“So what’s your opinion on sleeping with students?” Lumi blurted out into the too heavy silence. 

Qrow slowly looked up from his text, thumb still pressed to the letter “e” and stared at her. “What.” 

Lumi wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She pursed her lips shut and smiled despite the sudden lump in her throat. Her blood-pressure sky-rocketed. _WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, SELF???_

Did his _sixteen year old_ student just… What? What was going on? Where the hell did that come from?! 

She just stared at him with an uncomfortable smile and considered what sort of fine and/or community service sentence she’d get if she marched to Huang’s office and confessed to buying alcohol on the weekends. Nearly anything would be better than this. She’d almost take fighting Grimm to this ( _almost_ because her arm ached at the thought of it). 

Qrow blinked himself out of an incredulous stupor and remembered that she had, technically, asked him a question. “That’s fuckin’ nasty,” his tone was as dry as the desert and as heavy as marble in the quiet. 

Lumi nodded (like an idiot, some rational part of her mind pointed out) “Uh-huh, yup, same here.” 

He continued to stare at her as his addled brain struggled to turn snippets of thought into full-fledged sentences. The very concept was _disgusting _and a gross violation of trust and _just so wrong_ \- he had _nieces her age_ wha- __

____

"Well I’m done grading, so I’m just gonna,” Lumi shoved all her things into her bag and melted into the shadows at her feet.

Even the casual abuse of her Semblance (which was technically against school rules) didn’t faze him. A couple minutes of staring into space later, he shouted at the air “What the fuck” and that was that.

________________________________________ 

Lumi burrowed herself underneath her blankets and carefully thought about anything except the fact that she was ditching school to avoid having to see Branwen again. She could have theoretically ditched _only_ his class, but the guilt would have eaten her alive. As spotty as her attendance was, she made every effort to attend _every_ class she was capable of going to and she’d never ditched a class no matter how little she liked any given teacher. 

Basically, this was a new low for her and she wondered if a four-day weekend was feasible without drowning in work when she returned to school.

Short answer: probably not.

Long answer: she was an idiot, why did she have to open her mouth, there was no way she could miss two full days of class AND detention and not suffer consequences, what was she even thinking asking a questions like that, did she want to make her life _more difficult_ \- repeat ad nauseam.

In an effort not to feel completely scummy for ditching school, Lumi dragged herself out of bed around ten in the morning and plopped herself in front of her desk. She had some unfinished homework from yesterday she needed to work on, and afterwards, things to bake to make up for putting her foot in her mouth. 

\-----

Qrow ran a hand over his face and wondered what he was going to do with Hazelwood. After yesterday’s- _yesterday_ the girl skipped school and he doubted she’d show up for detention of all things. He spun around once in his chair in thought. 

“Knock knock,” Taiyang’s voice called from the doorway.

“No,” he deadpanned. 

The other man chuckled. “What’s eating you, bird brain?”

He grumbled incoherently. 

“What?” He cupped a hand to his ear. 

“I _said_ ,” Qrow bit. “Hazelwood asked me my opinion on sleepin’ with students yesterday.” 

Taiyang blinked. 

“Yeah, my reaction too,” he rolled his eyes. “I bet Oz never has to deal with this shit.”

“Wait wait wait, was she,” he motioned wildly. “Trying to proposition you or something? What is going on?!”

“I dunno,” he slumped forward in his seat. “Her home life is pretty fucked from what I can tell, but she seems pretty level headed. We were talkin’ about weird rumors before she asked, so maybe there’s a rumor about that sorta thing?”

“I’ll ask Yang and see if she’s heard anything like that,” Taiyang rubbed the back of his neck. “Then remind her that boys are _dirty_ and have _cooties_ no matter how old they are.” 

Qrow glanced at his Scroll. “Yeah, you do that. If Lumi doesn’t show up to school on Monday, I’ll talk to Huang and see if she can’t get me the kid’s address. Hopefully, she shows up before then and saves me the trouble.”

Luckily for Qrow, Lumi did show up to school the next day, bearing a plate of brownies of all things. She set the dish down on his desk and said “I’m willing to ignore Wednesday if you are.”

He raised a brow at her. “Do I still get the brownies if I say no?”

Her smile twisted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” he swiped a chocolatey square. “You missed a quiz on Thursday. Sit down and I’ll get it for you.”

Her shoulders dropped as relief flooded her. “Okay.”

That was that.

  
________________________________________

Two and a half weeks passed without notice. Lumi let herself into the class and realized she was alone. A cursory check of Branwen’s desk revealed no work for her to do. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d been left alone in detention, far from it actually since Branwen usually had a staff meeting or something on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, but it was the first time she had nothing to do. She plopped herself at her usual seat and leaned her head onto one palm.

She could clean, if she really wanted to, but aside from those first couple of weeks of detention (three months ago!) she hadn’t been asked to (and she definitely didn’t want to). Branwen, she had learned, hating grading and readily took advantage of having his own (unofficial) TA to do it even if it meant he had to clean his own classroom.

Well, in the absence of assigned work, Lumi thought to herself as pulled out her sketchbook and Scroll, she had things to do. There was an entire class dedicated to crafting and working with weapons, and a class about useful battlefield skills (like landing strategies and first aid) but there was nothing for choosing a Hunter outfit.

As a first year she’d asked her teachers and scoured the internet to find out why not. Common opinion was that while outfits were as personal as weapons, and incredibly important when it came to your image and getting sponsorships, it was up to the individual to cobble something together.

Which was a fuckin’ travesty because unless you were interested in fashion like she was or had someone who could point in the direction of a not-dumb outfit, you were stuck with picking what looked cool but what might not be good quality or the right fit for your fighting style. She wondered how many Hunters/Hunters in training got into accidents or lost out on sponsorship opportunities because no one advised them what sorts of clothes best fit their fighting style and image. 

She took a deep breath to settle herself. There was no use getting worked up over her own thoughts. Lumi set her pencil to paper and scribbled out a few exercises before working on refining sketches and jotting down new ideas. 

Thirty some odd minutes into drawing, the door opened and in walked Branwen holding a clipboard on one shoulder.

"Don't ever be a teacher, kid,” he grumbled.

She hummed. “Why not?”

“Chaperoning a bunch of brats is the worst possible way to spend a Saturday,” he smacked the clipboard with the back of one hand. He fell onto his chair and rolled a foot before the chair hit the L-shaped desk. “So what are you workin’ on?” The clipboard clattered against the desk where it was thrown.

"I’m trying to nail a design for my Huntress outfit,” she said and crossed out a sketch. “There’s a few ideas I keep coming back to, but nothing is sticking out at me.” 

He nodded. “Have you considered adding Dust? I knew a woman who embedded Dust crystals in her boots and,” he mimed an explosion. “Gives a whole new meaning to _killer legs_.”

Her hand stilled as her head whipped about to stare at him. “You’re a genius,” the words fell from her mouth without conscious direction. Qrow opened his mouth to respond (why yes I am, how nice of you to notice) but by then Lumi had her head pressed to the sketchbook and was furiously writing down the ideas that popped up in her mind. 

She was so engrossed with the new train of thought that she didn’t notice when Branwen dragged a stool to her side and started commenting on things. Well, didn’t notice until she caught herself responding.

“No, I can’t add a cape.” She waved him off, a little too close to his face. “It’d get in the way of my quiver.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Then you should get a rifle, like I tell you every time your weapon eval comes up.” 

“A cape would still get in the way,” she shot back and wrote in all caps _NO CAPES_.

Lumi continued making notes and jotting down ideas with Branwen’s input for roughly twenty minutes before the workshop door swung open again and Mrs. Huang strolled in. The school counselor was decidedly _not_ Lumi’s friend, and so the girl followed her teacher’s cue when he ignored the older woman. 

“A belt or a thigh holster would be good,” Lumi nodded. “But I’m not adding handguns." 

Huang cleared her throat loudly. “Well don’t you two make a _cozy little couple_ ,” she sneered. 

She froze in shock and stared wide-eyed at the counselor. A sharp anger flared deep in her chest as the shadows flickered in the corners of the room. Did Huang know about the rumors, or was she just commenting on how close she and Branwen were? Either way, _how dare she_.

"Sorry, I think I _misheard_ you.” Qrow glared viciously at the woman, equally affronted.

“Yes, yes,” she hummed. “It must happen often what with your… _history_ and _lifestyle choices_. Anyways!” She smiled brightly at him and Lumi bit back the urge to send her on a trip through the shadows. “Since you left before the meeting was over, Principal Blossom wanted me to inform you that-“

“ _Principal Blossom_ can e-mail me,” he jerked a thumb at his computer. “I’m tutoring a student right now.” 

Huang spluttered in indignation. She looked between the two of them, at the clear lack of textbooks or weapons on the table. 

Lumi found her voice and asked “Mr. Branwen, why is it important to use a magnetic metal in weapons again?” She tilted her head to side and placed a finger to her chin; an expression so sickeningly cute and fake that she was surprised she didn’t burst into laughter.

“Magnetic metal is Aura-reactive, and won’t shatter when you re-enforce it,” he ignored Ember’s fuming. 

“Oh, what about alloys, Mr. Branwen?” she scribbled in the corner of a page and nodded along as he listed the most common alloys used by Hunters. 

It was (apparently) too much for Huang. She tried to slam the door behind her (and failed, much like last time) and she stormed off, heels clacking loudly against the tile floors. 

Lumi sighed in relief. 

Qrow stretched his arms over his head and looked at the clock that hung over the door. “Well, looks like it’s time for you to head home.”

She twisted in place to follow his line of sight. “Oh, already?” She gathered up her things and shouldered the strap of her bag. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Branwen.” 

“See ya, kid,” he called while flipping the stools onto the table. 

She dismissed the odd sense of loss and stepped from one shadow to another to appear at the bus stop. There was no reason to feel sad at leaving- she’d see him tomorrow and besides, her cute little siblings were at home! Her bed was at home, and so was a fridge full of delicious meals she and her father had made! Going home was a good thing! 

But Lumi remembered Branwen eating E-Z Meals at his desk and frowned. 

How weird, she noted, that her thoughts and sense of sympathy would go to him when he was keeping her an hour afterschool every day for detention. She wondered what it meant on the ride home, and eventually settled on the realization that despite (technically) punishing her, she’d become fond of him. It made little to no sense but- there it was. He’d somehow grown on her like a stubborn moss over a stubborn rock. 

Granted, he wasn’t exactly an , _easy_ person to be around, but he had interesting stories to tell and a unique perspective of the world. It helped, of course, that he’d given her _detention_ instead of shoving into the tender care of the police or school board. And, yeah, she didn’t know _why_ he kept trying to get her to open up, but the fact that he _was_ trying (and kept trying despite how often it ended up with him talking and her humming or nodding along) was a little heart-warming.

Okay, so it was a lot heartwarming, she corrected as she slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag in her room. Her own mother didn’t put half as much effort into talking to her- honestly talking to her and not just asking about her grades and how often she was training at home. It was nice, to have someone who cared enough to get her to talk. 

Lumi whisked together spices and pancake mix and sighed. How sad that she got more attention from a teacher than her own flesh and blood. She tapped the whisk to get rid of the powder and turned her attention to chicken breast sitting in egg wash. 

Well, she amended mentally as she dipped the breast in the dry mix, her dad cared enough to talk to her too; he just didn’t have a lot of time to do so. Which, technically, did mean that she got more attention from her teacher than she did from either parent (…ouch). 

No use dwelling on it, she shook her head and breaded another breast. There were people less-fortunate than her who didn’t even have their parents still, much less a teacher who gave half a fuck about them.

Hm, maybe she’d bring Branwen some leftovers tomorrow… No, that was dumb. Wasn’t there a school rule or something about accepting gifts from students? Or was that the other way around? Whatever- grown men didn’t just _accept_ pity lunches from teenaged girls, even if they had a good rapport. 

She hummed aloud and flipped the frying chicken over. Maybe she’d “forget” a container in class, since she had him just before lunch, and mention how quickly chicken spoiled if he hadn’t eaten it by detention… 

Actually, the idea wasn’t half bad. 

She set the finished pieces on a serving plate and added a new batch to the oil. They had to have some old food containers, something shoved in the back of a cupboard and forgotten, that she could conveniently “forget at school” for tomorrow.

A few minutes of digging produced a slightly discolored plastic container with spiders and the word “spooky!” printed in a pattern along the sides. The top was attached to the bottom and slightly sticky (ew). She tossed it in the sink and checked on the cooking chicken. She flipped the pieces and shuffled over to the sink to wash out the tipperware (their slogan: tip-over proof!). 

Nocte twirled (literally) into the kitchen with a sweet smile and sidled up to her with a flutter of her eyelashes. 

“No, Nocte, you can’t get a ‘taste test’ before I’ve finished cooking,” Lumi side-eyed her. 

She scowled and hip-checked her older sister. “Jerk.” 

“Shoo,” she flung a handful of soap water at her. 

The white haired girl growled and stomped out. 

Lumi rolled her eyes and rinsed the tipperware. Any second now, Ash would come in and complain that Nocte got a bite so he should get one too, don’t be so stingy Lumi! 

“Lumiii!” Her brother’s voice whined from around the corner. “I want a bite too!” 

“That brat didn’t get any and neither will you,” she called as she dried her hands. 

She could hear the sounds of her younger siblings’ scuffling and running around as she measured out water and butter for instant mashed potatoes. The pair fought for a few minutes longer before Lumi yelled at them to cut it out. They then separated to do whatever they did when they weren’t bothering her and trying to sneak dinner before it was done. 

Her father walked out of his study, led by his nose, when she put the last batch into oil. “Smells great, star light.” 

She leaned into his one-armed hug and accepted the kiss on her forehead with minimum fuss. “Coffee breath,” she crinkled her nose at him (because minimum fuss didn’t mean no fuss).

“Yes yes,” he sighed and dumped the cold remains of a mug. He ran a hand through his wavy grey hair and stretched. “Did you find out when that field trip to Beacon is?” 

Lumi whisked the potato flakes and milk into the boiling water. “Next week on Saturday.” 

He hummed. “Your mother’s not going to be happy about that.” 

“I didn’t pick the day,” she groused and threw in a pinch of garlic salt. 

“I know, Lumi love,” his shoulders sagged. “I know.” 

They lapsed into contemplative silence. 

“So, about that cat,” he trailed off in an obvious attempt to pique her interest (it worked). “I was thinking we could go to the shelter sometime in the next two weeks…”

________________________________________ 

A classroom full of hungry teenagers, minutes before the lunch bell, was the perfect cover to plant an anonymously donated lunch. Anyone who wasn’t packed and ready to go was running around, and those who were ready were loudly chatting. Chaos, in other words. 

Lumi lingered by the door and took off just as the bell rang rather than wait to see if her teacher would find the food. She tried to push the thought from her mind for the rest of the day, and mostly succeeded until she found herself a hallway away from the Weapons workshop. Nervousness and eagerness in equal parts fluttered in her chest. 

She took a deep breath and walked in. Branwen was seated at his desk, Scroll in hand, feet propped up. _Stay cool, he suspects nothing, you did nothing wrong, stay cool…_

“Hey, kid,” her teacher called. 

_Oh fuck, he knows! DENY IT! DENY EVERYTHING!_

“Y-es?” She cleared her throat to cover the crack in her voice. “Yes, Mr. Branwen?”

“Do you know anybody who lost a lunch in second period?” He held up the container. 

“Mm, no one complained about a missing lunch,” she hopped onto the tall stool. “How do you know it’s from second period?”

“Wasn’t here after first period,” he shrugged and shook the container.

“What’s inside?” she took out her homework and carefully focused on not-him. 

“Fried chicken,” he said. “Mashed potatoes and gravy.” 

She leaned her head on her left hand. “Chicken spoils pretty quick if it’s not refrigerated; gravy too. I’m sure whoever it belonged to doesn’t miss it since they didn’t come back for it, so you might as well eat it.” 

Wow, that was probably the most words she’d ever said to him at once. 

He squinted at the food. “Yeah, you’re probably right, kid.” Branwen got up and tucked it beneath his arm. He walked out the class and (presumably) to the teacher’s lounge. 

Lumi fist pumped in the empty classroom. Part one of “Feed Branwen and Don’t Let Him Know” was a success! She grabbed the ungraded work from his desk and settled in to work. When he reappeared, spoonful of mashed potatoes in mouth and singing praises to the cook, she had to duck her head to hide the viciously wide smile that broke across her face. 

It felt good to do good, even if she was the only one who would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed :) 
> 
> See you next week!


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, Verbena Hazelwood was _not_ happy about losing her weekend with Lumi and nearly refused to take Ash and Nocte for her custody visit out of spite. In the end, however, she picked up the younger two and imparted beautiful, heartfelt advice to her oldest; “Sit in on a spar so you can see how far your skills are from where they need to be.” 

Only because backtalk would make her siblings suffer, Lumi smiled and ducked her head with a quiet, “Yes, mother.” In her mind she was cursing the woman and hoping she’d fall down a long flight of stairs in the immediate future. 

Her mother nodded, critical violet eyes glinting in the evening light, then herded Ash and Nocte into the car. She drove off without looking back. 

“Witch,” Lumi muttered under her breath and let the window curtain swing back into place. Guilt curled in the pit of her stomach, but she forced it aside and went to her room. Ash and Nocte were old enough to deal with their mother on their own; Lumi wouldn’t be around forever to shield them.

________________________________________

Unlike Friday, Saturday went much more smoothly. She and a couple of other students who lived in Vale carpooled to Beacon courtesy of someone’s dad. The students who lived in the dorms at Signal arrived in an airbus half an hour later, which felt like an eternity to the second and third years stuck waiting in the cold.

Ms. Aryl stepped out of the airbus first, holding up a mustard yellow sign that was taped to the end of a metal rod. “Follow me! Our tour guides will meet us at the Hunter statue.” 

A wave of excited students rushed out from behind her, clumped in groups of two and three. There wasn’t really a need for Aryl’s sign at the moment, Lumi thought as she followed her classmates, because the airbus docked at the end of the main avenue that lead straight to Beacon Academy proper. 

You couldn’t get lost unless you ran off into the woods- and the woods were something like a mile away. Even then, a clock tower (which doubled as the base for the Cross Continental Transmit system) stood in the center of campus, visible from pretty much anywhere because it glowed green in the fog. 

Up ahead, a team of four lingered beneath the impressive stone statue, decked out in their Hunter outfits instead of the Beacon uniforms Lumi saw other students wearing. The leader, a bear of a woman with red pants tucked into rugged brown boots, strode forward to meet Aryl. 

She embraced the history teacher with a wide grin. “Finley! It’s been a while, huh?” 

The green-eyed woman chuckled, “I’ll say. What are you now, a fourth year?” 

“Ya know it,” she placed her hands on her hips. “Me and the team just got back from a mission two days ago.” 

“Oh?” Aryl glanced back at the awe-filled faces of her students. “You’ll have to tell me about it after the tour.” 

She laughed good-naturedly. “Of course, of course, anything for my favorite teacher. Now,” she clapped her large hands together to draw attention (unnecessary, all eyes were already on her). “My name’s Diane and I’m leader of team DSRT (Desert).” 

Her teammates took the cue for what it was and introduced themselves. 

“We’ll be taking you on a tour of Beacon,” Diane nodded at her team. “Feel free to ask questions, but keep up!” 

Off they went. Lumi wanted to be more excited about the tour, but unlike some of her classmates, she’d been to Beacon on a tour almost exactly like this one more than a few times- not to mention the times her mother took her Grimm hunting in the Emerald Forest when she wanted to switch things up. It was just One of Those Things that happened when you lived in Vale your entire life and idolized Hunters enough to go on every offered field trip.

She lingered near the back of the group, half an eye on her Scroll and half an ear tuned to the tour guide to make sure she didn’t miss anything important. They were about a quarter through the tour when Branwen drew up beside her, hands stuffed in the pockets of a familiar (?) coat. 

“Bored?” He asked. 

She shrugged. 

_Wow, what a well thought out and perfectly articulated response Hazelwood_ , Qrow thought dryly. He continued despite the lukewarm reception. “This is my alum, but I needed to chaperone at least one field trip this year so the principal would get off my back; ya know how it is.” 

Lumi nodded. They lapsed into silence as they went into a building and up a flight of stairs. 

“That’s the coat I helped you find, right?” She inclined her head towards him.

“Yup,” he rolled his shoulders. “No complaints so far.” Though he hadn’t exactly fought in it yet. 

A small, warm smile lit up her face. “That’s good.” 

Now wasn’t that just the cutest? His quiet little student actually gave half a damn. 

The rest of the tour continued that way, with random but short conversations between the two; mostly commentary on some new feature of the school or a nostalgic anecdote about his team breaking something. By the time the group reached the cafeteria, Lumi felt less frozen and relaxed enough to not care about much of anything except the prospect of hot, delicious food- half the point of even going on this trip. 

It was, of course, at that moment that someone slammed into her from behind and her Scroll went skittering along the ground. A heavy foot crushed it beneath the thick rubber sole of their combat boots then quickly jerked back with a hissed “shit, sorry!” 

Hot embarrassment, anger and mild panic rushed through her as she scrambled to scoop up the shards of her Scroll into her gloved hands. “No, no, it’s _fine_ \- I needed to update anyways, it’s okay.” She smiled despite herself and shooed away the guilty faced boy. “Yes, yes, I’m _sure_. I’ll be okay, don’t worry, it was an accident.” 

Lumi gently cradled the pieces in her hands until she could make it to an empty seat. She grabbed a napkin to wrap everything in, then put the bundle into her pocket and made her way to one of the food stations, throat tight. 

Her Scroll had been an older model, and she was going to update it… eventually, but having it _crushed_ underfoot was a bit much. Oum couldn’t have sent her a subtler sign like making the display glitch out or have the keys respond sluggishly? The universe really had to destroy her damn phone to get a message across? Had she not suffered enough? What the actual fucking fuck.

She set down the assorted plates a little too roughly, but no one called her out on it. She attempted to drown her sorrows and rage with greasy fries, burgers, chicken quesadillas and pork chile verde. Midway through pity burger number two and Life Sucks quesadilla number one, Branwen slid into the empty spot across from her with more plates than she thought a human could conceivably carry. 

She hummed hello and stopped shoveling food into her mouth at a furious pace, instead taking normal sized bites at a more acceptable pace. 

“So,” Branwen began, stabbed a forkful of pasta. “Your Scroll broke.” 

She hummed again- more of a grunt really, what with the food in her mouth. 

“Need me to call your parents and let ‘em know?” He twirled his fork in the air. “Ya know, so they don’t freak out and think you’ve been kidnapped or somethin’ crazy?” 

“They won’t pick up,” she bit with more venom than she intended. “Much less call me to begin with.” 

_Bingo_ , Qrow thought. 

“Why not?” He pressed. “You’re what, sixteen? And on a weekend trip to a school where Grimm basically roam the campus with no Scroll- no way to call home.”

“I’ll be fine,” she met his gaze for a second then looked away with a stubborn clench of her jaw. “Sixteen’s old enough.” 

“Seventeen’s legal,” he countered and brought his thumb and index finger nearly together with a squint. “You’re a little short there, kid.” 

“I can take care of myself,” she huffed, then “ _Practically have been for forever…_ ” in a low tone that he (probably) wasn’t supposed to hear. 

“Well,” he grabbed his hip flask and unscrewed the top; her eyes were riveted to the motion. “If you need anythin’, lemme know.” He took a swig and noticed out the corner of his eye the way her gaze followed his every movement. 

She looked down at her food just before he finished and frowned. Was it really okay for him to drinking so obviously? And in front of a student no less? It was barely noon… Whatever, not her problem, she thought hotly. If he wanted to get sloppy in the middle of the day she wasn’t going to stop him- couldn’t stop him anyways. (And didn’t that just burn?) 

Lumi kept her eyes away from Branwen. She hm’ed and ah-huh’ed through his chatter then finished up before he did and left with brief wave. Tactics for dealing with her mother apparently applied to her weapon’s instructor too. He didn’t call her out on how rude she was being, which she was mildly thankful for. 

The air outside was chilly, but slightly warmer than it had been when she first arrived. She tucked both hands into her pant pockets and set off without a proper destination in mind. Her feet lead her on a winding path that looped through some dorms, past an amphitheater, around the campus’ perimeter and ended at the edge of the Emerald Forest. 

She swiftly turned on her heel and backtracked as the clock tower chimed the hour. Going hunting alone was incredibly stupid, even if she did have her weapon. Her semblance could help her get away quickly if she needed to, but neither of those two facts would help her if a Grimm got in a lucky, fatal blow. 

She kept on until she arrived to the front door of a random building. With a shrug she walked in. Despite it being Saturday, she could see people in the classes she passed on ground level, gesturing and drawing on whiteboards. She took the staircase and went up to a few floors, stopping to check if there was an open and unoccupied room ever so often. No luck, and by the end of it she was on the topmost floor in front of a door that read “roof access: maintenance only.” 

The logical part of her mind pointed out that the roof probably had nothing but the heating and cooling system- but she was curious and felt a little anti-social so rather than do the sensible thing and _walk away_ , Lumi stepped through the shadows to the other side of the door and walked up to the roof. 

The winds were colder and stronger this high up, she noted with a shiver, but she could see the forest stretch off seemingly forever in one direction; the water in another. It was, simply put, breath-taking. She stared at the green horizon until a dark-feathered bird swooped by, cawed at her, and perched a ways away. 

Lumi startled and looked at it for a moment, but when it titled its head at her and revealed no blood-thirsty desire, she figured it was a normal bird and let it be. Months had passed but she hadn’t lost her distrust of birds after that Grimm attacked her and bloodied her nose while she was eating. 

She plopped herself down on the edge of the roof to watch the waves in the harbor like she had the swaying of branches moments prior. The swell and retreat of the water so soothing, nearly hypnotic. Cold, damp wind brushed past her cheeks and lifted the ends of her grey hair with every gust. 

This was the sort of moment that having her Scroll would have been useful. She patted the pocket of her bright blue coat that held the bits of it. When she got back to town she’d replace it; maybe see if anything could be salvaged. Her contacts and some pictures, at least, were safe because they were backed up automatically. 

She peeked over the edge of the building and marveled at the blanket of fog that coated the campus like a scarf. That turned to people watching, but a sense of emptiness settled in her chest the longer she did so. Her siblings were with their mother, her dad was at work, and she’d come all this way to… what, be alone? Completely ignore the library and on-site healer and all the knowledge she could pick up with just a bit of effort now that she was on campus? 

She scoffed at herself and walked around the roof’s perimeter just to stretch her legs. Without much thought, she stepped through a shadow to appear back on the ground floor. She needed to get her act together and do what she set out to in the first place. With a nod, she walked forward, caught sight of the cafeteria, and switched gears. 

There’d be no harm in getting a drink before heading out, she thought to herself. It’d bring some feeling back to her cold cheeks and make up for the less than pleasant lunch she had. A group of three Beacon students strolled out, laughing and talking, and Lumi sighed as the warm air hit her. 

She snagged a cup, topped it off with whipped cream and parked herself at an empty seat. Unlike Signal, Beacon had long benches that ran the length of the room which were probably meant to encourage teams to sit together but in her case, highlighted how alone she was. 

One hand drifted down to her pocket and she sighed into the whipped cream. Without a working Scroll she couldn’t even text anybody. She sipped her drink and looked around the room. Back to people watching for her, it seemed. 

At the end of her table was a quartet of Beacon students (a team?) and next to but clearly separate from them was a pair of Faunus girls. A stream of her classmates walked in, following one of the tour guides from earlier. There was a boy tucked into a quiet corner with a text book and- Branwen was walking towards her? 

Her hackles raised at the sight of him. 

“Hey, kid, where’ve you been?” Branwen asked as though he hadn’t clearly made her uncomfortable. 

“Around,” she lifted her mug and held it close to her body. “Why?” 

“You’re _supposed_ to check in every hour,” he reminded her not unkindly. 

Her initial impulse to ask how in the hell she was supposed to do that when her Scroll was _broken_ for fucks sake, would not go over well and her self-preservation instinct was thankfully stronger than any irritation she felt. Also thankfully, he continued so Lumi was spared having to give a response. 

“And anyways, there’s somebody I wanted you to meet,” he motioned for her to follow. “Didn’t think I’d find you this quick though, so hopefully he’s free.” 

She mentally balked at the idea but complied because she wasn’t a stubborn, contrary idiot who disobeyed authority for the fun of it. More importantly, she wanted to know who this _he_ was who wanted to meet _her_. 

Branwen snagged a mug of coffee and a plate of brownies on the way and no one stopped him from walking out with the items. 

Well then. Lumi followed with her own mug, shooting looks over her shoulder at the cafeteria workers and then at the back of his head which roughly translated to “what the fuck is going on” in the calmest possible way. 

He led her to the CCT(??? here her footsteps faltered) and into the elevator. A swipe of his Scroll, and they were on their way to the top. No, not the top, which might make sense because you could use the top floor to make video calls, but _above_ that. Curiosity warred with wariness and kept her tongue quiet on the ride up. 

Finally, the doors opened to a spacious and sparsely decorated office. Clock gears clinked along behind the semi-circle desk that held a grey haired man being chewed out by a woman wearing a black and purple cape. If Lumi got nothing out of this, she wanted to know who the woman with such good fashion sense was. 

“-needed to be done yesterday, Ozpin! What have you been doing th-“ she noticed the man’s (Ozpin’s?) gaze shift to behind her and she twirled around on her heel. “Hello, _Qrow_.” She bit coldly then turned her slightly less hostile attention to Lumi. “And guest.” 

“Hello, ma’am,” Lumi stood a little taller and bobbed her head. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Sup, Goodwitch?” Branwen tossed the plate (!) to Ozpin then planted a hand heavy on Lumi’s head. “This is Lumi, my assistant.” 

Glynda rolled her eyes and adjusted her glasses. “In that case, I have a word of advice for you, Ms. Lumi.” She fixed her with an urgent, piercing look. “Run.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Lumi nodded. “Right away.” She knocked Branwen’s hand away and smiled innocently. 

“My, how polite,” she mused and side-eyed Branwen. “Maybe you’ll teach Qrow some manners.” 

The man in question protested the implied insult. Loudly. 

Lumi didn’t know this woman at all, but between her good fashion sense and giving her the option to talk trash on Branwen, that didn’t matter; she liked her already. 

She smiled and placed her palm to her mouth to hide her lips from Branwen. “That’s the hope, ma’am, but he’s _so_ difficult. I don’t know how you’ve managed.” 

“Yes, yes, I know what you mean,” she nodded sagely then grinned at the younger girl. “Unfortunately, I do have some things to take care of, so I wish you luck with these two.” She waved and walked out with a parting remark at Ozpin (oh yeah, there was another person here) about paperwork. 

Lumi watched her go then turned her attention to the man behind the desk. At her side, Branwen grumbled about traitors and impressionable young students. 

He grinned at her and gestured to the pair of seats in front of him. 

She glanced up at Branwen for direction. 

“Might as well sit, kid,” he threw himself into the left chair. “This is who I wanted you to meet, by the way.” 

Oh, you couldn’t have said anything on the terribly awkward and quiet ride up, Branwen? You had to wait until _just_ now? 

She stepped closer and extended her free hand over the desk. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m Lumi.” 

He shook her hand gently, but from the feel of the calluses on his fingers and the way his aura prickled against hers she knew he was more powerful than the shake implied. 

“You as well, miss Hazelwood. I’m professor Ozpin, headmaster here at Beacon Academy.” He reached for his own mug and took a sip. 

Well. She definitely didn’t say her last name, so how in the hell did he know it? She side-eyed Branwen and connected the dots. Of course. Branwen wanted her to meet this man so it stood to reason that he talked about her. The only question was: how much and about what? 

“Qrow here tells me that you’re interested in attending Beacon next year,” he smiled and inclined his head. 

She took the statement as the prompt that it was. “Yes, sir. It’s been my dream for a few years now, to come here.” She curled her fingers around the empty mug in her hands and tried to calm her heart. Gods, was this an interview? Should she treat it like one anyways? 

“Why do you want to be a Huntress?” he asked. “For fame? glory? power?” 

“No, that’s not really me.” She shook her head and unconsciously leaned forward in her seat. “My mother, she was a Huntress and when I was about ten, I decided that I wanted to be one too. I, uh, don’t actually remember why aside from that, but, uh,” she took a steadying breath. “But now that I’m a little older, I know want to help protect people- so they can live peacefully and without fear.” 

He hummed. “Well, we accept applicants from all walks of life here; from the most model of citizens down to those with, shall we say, less than savory pasts. We do this because here at Beacon Academy we honestly and truly believe that anyone who is willing and dedicated to bettering themselves deserves the chance to do so.” 

Lumi nodded wordlessly, moved and inspired by his words. 

“I’m sure you have people in your life who want nothing more than to see you succeed,” he tilted his head in Branwen’s direction. “And who are willing to help you with whatever you problem you may be facing; you need only ask for their help. I look forward to seeing your application, miss Hazelwood.” 

Damn, just what do you say to follow that up? 

“And, that’s our cue to leave,” Branwen stood as if reading her mind and left the dirty mug on the floor. 

Lumi followed, a step or two closer than before and with her used cup in hand. (How rude, Branwen.) 

“It was nice to meet you, professor,” she called as the elevator doors opened. 

“You as well, have a good day,” he said and turned to something on his desk. 

Qrow mouthed “thanks” at Oz as the doors slid close. The ride back to the main floor was as quiet as the ride up, but the air was entirely changed. The pair stepped out and Lumi, still in a bit of a daze at the inspiring words of Ozpin, followed at Branwen’s side. 

It was, perhaps, a little silly that such simple words would have such an effect on her, but they did. The headmaster good as said “I believe in you; you deserve the chance to be better than your upbringing.” Which, wow. Just, _wow_. No one had ever said that to her before, and it struck something deep inside of her. 

Part of her wanted to say that he just spouting pretty words like Mrs. Huang, but he really seemed to mean it and that was everything. 

Qrow glanced at the small, warm smile on her face and mentally patted himself on the back. Three, nearly four, months of trying and nothing had ever worked as well as mushy words from wise old Oz had. Maybe she’d take up his offer of having his ear for an hour a day and finally ask for help. 

Well, one thing at a time. He had to survive the field trip first. 

________________________________________ 

The week following the trip to Beacon was surprisingly calm on Lumi’s side of things. Sure, her mother was pissy about missing a weekend and wanted to pick her up early on Friday to make up for lost time, but classes hadn’t kicked into “review everything you’ve ever been taught” mode yet. It made for a good bit of free time, only part of which she spent on her elusive Huntress outfit design.

The other part, naturally, went towards running errands, stocking up on essentials so when finals hit she didn’t have to leave the house, and buying things for people who were willing to pay for her one-person delivery service. It was good money, and her updated Scroll was capable of much more than her old one had been which made the work easier. 

It was on a Thursday afternoon trek to the mall for Dust crystals and a cheap pair of boots that Lumi found herself in one of the few open seats at a busy food court. Bags by her feet, ticket in hand, she let her eyes wander over the crowd and kept an ear open for her number. 

“Hey, um, is this seat open?” A childish voice called from over her right shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Lumi turned to look at the speaker. Wide grey eyes peeked out from beneath her long black-red bangs, nervous hands wrung the straps of her shopping bags from the dust store, weapon parts shop and- Victory’s? 

“Thank you,” she hugged her bags to her body and sat. 

She looked about Ash’s age, and while twelve/thirteen was old enough to go bra shopping, she couldn’t think of anyone that young who would go _by themselves_. Where were her parents? She scanned the crowd again but no one popped out as being this girl’s family. 

“Number 93!” 

Lumi got up, bags and all, to grab her food despite how unnecessary it was to mistrust the pre-teen when it came to watching her things for a fourteen foot journey. Bottles of Dust clanked together as she sat back down and she hoped nothing cracked. She got a bite or two into her meal before the younger girl (she should really find out her name) spoke up. 

“Are you a Huntress?” Her eyes lit up in anticipation. 

“Um,” she looked around but, no, this girl was definitely talking to her. “No, but I’m training to be.” 

“Can I see your weapon?” She curled her hands into tiny, excited fists and Lumi knew she was done for. Her one weakness: cute things and people. 

“Sure,” she set down her sandwich and stood. While her baton could extend with a flick of her wrist, it was rude to mess around with weapons in the middle of civilian establishments, so she unholstered it from her left hip and extended it by hand. 

She sat back down and pointed out the few functions it was capable of to the eager red caped girl. One question for the other girl was all it took for Lumi to lose control of the conversation, which she was fine with because her food was growing cold. 

“-really excited to start training with a live scythe because that means I can start building my own soon and-“ her rambling was cut off by another person’s teasing comment of “Take a breath, Ruby.” 

Lumi turned and was surprised to see a familiar face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my, who could that be? Guess you’ll have to wait until next week to find out :9
> 
> Not gonna lie, this chapter was pretty difficult to write. I went through a few different versions before settling on this. But now that it’s out the way, I can focus on next chapter which is gonna be full of ~drama~ !
> 
> See you next week.


	6. Chapter 6

Lumi waved at the familiar face. “Hey, Yang.” That certainly explained where Ruby’s family was. 

“Hiya,” she snagged an empty chair and plopped down at the table. Like her sister, she had bags from the Dust store and Victory’s but her bags were considerably fuller. 

“Oh, do you go to school together?” Ruby cocked her head to the side. “Are you in the same year?” 

“I’m a third year,” Lumi sipped her drink. “But yeah, we both attend Signal. She’s told me a lot about you, actually.” 

Ruby side-eyed her older sister. “Yang, what kind of stories have you been spreading about me?” 

The blonde snickered but didn’t answer. 

“YANG? DID YOU TELL HER ABOUT _THE THING?_ ” she lifted her hood over her reddening face and groaned. “Ohhh my grimm, _you did_! Why are older sisters so embarrassing?” 

Lumi smiled at the scene and put away her weapon while the two bickered. She waited for a break before she asked, “So why are you two at the mall today? Ruby mentioned something about a training weapon?” 

The youngest nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yeah! I’ve been working on my weapon design _for-ev-er_ and my dad and uncle Qrow are finally letting me work with live metal- but I have to make a prototype to train with first so I don’t cut off my fingers or something. Which, pssh like that’ll happen.” 

“I tagged along for fun,” Yang folded her arms behind her head. “And to tease Ruby about buying her first _real_ bra.” 

“Yang, staaaawp,” the blush was back with a vengeance. 

“It’s okay, Ruby,” Lumi consoled the younger girl. “My first time buying a ‘real’ bra, my aunt took me and she made me get a D-cup so I could quote unquote ‘grow into it like my mom’.” She flexed her fingers for emphasis. “It didn’t work, because I’m still a B-cup all these years later, but I guess it was a nice thought?” 

“Woah, kid, too much information,” a familiar voice rasped from behind her. 

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby squeaked. “Dad! Where did you two go? You left me all alone in there!” 

Oh, yeah, Branwen was Yang’s uncle and Yang was Ruby’s sister. The reference to “Uncle Qrow” suddenly made a lot more sense- also why two teenaged girls would be bra shopping alone. 

In Lumi’s experience, no matter how “cool” and “nonchalant” a middle aged man tried to be about taking his daughter bra shopping, the minute they walked into the store and the saleswomen descended on them like wolves to the kill, he was gone like the wind with a stack of money left in his wake and a promise to come back in an hour. 

“Hey Branwen,” Lumi turned in her seat to stare the weapon’s instructor in the eye as he completely ignored his niece. “You maybe wanna forget you heard any of that?” 

“Do I get brownies out of it like last time?” Branwen quipped while the girl’s dad made some excuse about a promotional sale happening on the other side of the mall. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“Deal.” 

They nodded at each other in unison. 

“Ooh, last time?” Yang leaned forward. “What was last time?” 

Lumi smiled pointedly at the blonde. “So, what’d you buy at the dust shop?” 

Yang deflated, recognizing that the older girl wouldn’t give in… yet! “Fire dust so I can make more ammo for Ember Celica. I think Ruby got lightning dust?” 

She nodded. “Have you thought about adding dust to your clothes- or maybe fire crystals to your boots for stronger kicks?” 

“I told you about that, thief,” Branwen cut in. 

She ignored him. 

“Yeah, I tried that once,” Yang rubbed the back of her neck. “It didn’t go so well.” 

“Yang broke through the shed wall,” Ruby added with glee. “Then she got stuck in a tree- the actual tree not just the branches!” 

Lumi tried to bite back a smile at the mental image as Yang hissed at Ruby. There was a little more small talk and vague threats between the sisters before Mr. Xiao Long clapped his hands on his daughters’ shoulders and announced that it was time to go. Lumi waved goodbye to the family, and after promising Yang and Ruby that they would hang out over winter break, collected her bags. 

When she arrived home, she stowed her purchases and tied on an apron. Midway through mixing egg into the brownie batter, Ash popped his head into the kitchen with a hopeful smile. 

“No.” 

He frowned and slinked away.

  
________________________________________

Lumi trudged up the stairs to Saf’s dorm room and mentally recited the girl’s normal order; two Cola Blasts, four bourbon shots, and six cigarettes. She knocked on the door and shifted the bag she was carrying. It felt heavier than usual, and it was. For some reason that Lumi didn’t know or particularly care about, the other girl’s longstanding order had changed.

An unsteady, disheveled looking Saf greeted her, drink in hand. “Oh,” she sighed and reached into her pocket. “How much?” 

She looked rough, but Lumi didn’t appreciate when people pried into her life so she extended the same courtesy. She rattled off the pre-agreed upon amount and watched as the blue-eyed girl rifled through her pockets for the second time. 

“I just,” she groaned and shoved her drink at Lumi. “I know I have it!”

Caught off-guard, Lumi bent at the knees to first lower the bag to the ground then take the drink- but Saf pushed it into her hands without waiting and it splashed on her shirt. Her _white_ and light grey striped shirt, which was just lovely. 

Saf kicked aside clothes that littered the floor and picked through random garbage that sat in piles mostly on the right side of the desk and end of the bed. She started opening and closing overfull drawers, muttering to herself before she plucked a random book from her bookshelf and cracked it open. Her face contorted into a glare and she threw the hollowed out book at the wall with a scream.

Lumi took a step back and readied the shadow at her feet so she could escape at a moment’s notice. Good money or not, she wasn’t going to stick around if Saf got more violent or decided to take her frustrations out on her. 

The other girl roughly overturned a shoebox and lien spilled out. “Here, here,” she gathered the small pile without counting it and nearly threw it at Lumi. She took her drink and knocked back what was left. 

Lumi quickly thumbed through the money, handed back the change then hefted the heavy bag into Saf’s unsteady hands; a twelve pack of Cola Blast, a bottle of bourbon, and half a pack cigarettes. 

“Thanks, see you next week,” she hugged the bag to her chest like it was a precious gift and not full of cheap soda and cheaper alcohol then closed the door with her foot. 

Lumi tucked the bills into her back pocket and stepped through a shadow to Branwen’s class. There was no reason to walk across campus, or stick around longer than necessary. The drastic change in her longtime customer was almost enough to make Lumi ask what was wrong.

Almost, because a drunk who threw things and screamed was not a drunk she wanted to be around or talk to for any length of time. She let herself into the class and set her bag down then sniffed the wet spot on her shirt. It was more bourbon than Cola Blast and already she could tell it was going to be a pain to get out. She looked around and spotted a roll of paper towels on top of the spare parts cabinet. 

She dragged a step stool over and reached- only for the tips of her fingers to knock the roll back an inch. She sighed and threw one knee onto the waist high counter to give herself just a bit more reach. 

Before Lumi could contemplate standing on the countertop for the damned paper towels, a long arm reached over her and plucked the roll from its spot. She turned with a grateful smile, ready to thank Branwen, but confusion quickly colored her features when he- _sniffed_ her? 

“Wh-“ 

“You’ve been drinkin’,” he accused and bore down on her, anger and disappointment (?) heavy in his tone. 

“I-I haven’t?“ she stuttered and brought her shoulders up defensively. His aura flared harshly at her denial and suddenly he was way too close for comfort. 

“That a question or a statement?” 

Way too close, way too close, _back up_. Her throat felt tight and the air felt heavy and Oum above she wanted to get away or redirect his attention or _something_. 

“Sorry,” she murmured out of habit and tried to make herself smaller. The shadows behind and beneath her flickered a shade darker in response to her distress, then deepened sharply when Branwen grabbed her elbow when her gaze turned towards the door. 

“Uh-uh,” he tsked. “You don’t get to run away from this.” 

Did she somehow fall asleep somewhere between Saf’s dorm and coming here, because the whole situation felt very much like a nightmare and she’d like to wake up now, please. 

“Were you drinking, Lumi?” he asked.

Every horrible learned reflex from childhood resurfaced and she went nearly limp in his hold. “No, no,” she murmured in a soothing tone and settled her free hand on his wrist. “I wasn’t; I… brought you brownies. Remember, like I promised?” A soft, shaky smile graced her face even as she stood fully on the ground, never once meeting his eyes. 

The difference in height was even more dramatic with the last step down; five foot and change against six plus feet. She pressed her weight against his arm. “They have walnuts on top a-nd chocolate chips, just like you like,” she cajoled, and through a series of gentle touches and shifting her body, got him a few steps toward her bag. 

Hazelwood was close enough for him to get a strong whiff of alcohol with every movement but her breath was weirdly free of the scent. He came to his senses when he realized that she was _leading him_ , planted his feet, and shook off her hands. “Enough about food, _answer the question_.” 

She hesitated in place- part of her screaming that her usual method of dealing with a pissed off Hunter wasn’t working so she should run and another part screaming at her to deny it and be done with it all. 

“No,” she wrapped her arms around herself and looked up with a frown. “I wasn’t drinking, Mr. Branwen.” 

“Were you planning to?” He pressed. 

“No, I _don’t_ drink,” her hands clenched. “I just…” 

“Just?” 

“I just wanted to make you brownies,” her shoulders dropped. “Like we said yesterday, at the mall.” 

“You made me food and that’s why you smell like a bar?” He raised a brow. 

“No, no,” she stressed and shook her head. “Someone spilled their drink on me, and I wanted to clean up- I didn’t drink, I promise.” 

Even if she was telling the truth, and that was a big _if_ considering that his first notable interaction with her had been him finding her _in an alley with a bottle of whiskey_ , there were a few things wrong with the whole situation. 

One: she hung around with someone who was apparently sloppy enough to spill their drink on her _at school_ (which made it drastically more likely that she also drank and didn’t exactly help her case). And two: someone in school, someone Lumi knew, either had on hand or had the means to get alcohol and had no problem sharing. Easy access to booze and having people around you drink were two of the biggest factors involved in teen drinking- he didn’t need doctors and shrinks with fancy titles to tell him that. 

“Who spilled their drink on you?” he crossed his arms. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured and angled her body away from him. 

“Bullshit,” he spat. 

“I don’t know,” she protested gently and shifted her weight. “I dropped off homework for a friend and when I was leaving I bumped into someone- I didn’t see their face, only that they had a blue water bottle- and I came straight here afterwards.” 

She pleaded with her eyes as best she could. She’d given half-truths at best, but naming her clients didn’t exactly look good for her or inspire them to keep her secret. And she needed them to keep her secret or she’d be facing more than just detention. 

Qrow pursed his lips and inhaled deeply through his nose. Unlikely that she’d bump into someone and not see their face, but her breath didn’t smell like alcohol and while that cooing thing she did was weird as hell (and weirdly effective), he’d seen her do it before so it wasn’t like she was acting completely out of character. 

He wanted to believe her but his own disposition and their history didn’t exactly lend itself to trust and believing her at face value. (“I fell down the stairs” was a shitty excuse and one she’d actually tried to use on him a few weeks back to explain why her lip was busted and her ankle sprained.) 

Wanted to believe her, but didn’t- _couldn’t_ \- and yet he found himself saying. “Okay, if you say so.” 

She visibly relaxed at the statement and smiled shyly up at him. 

He knew her well enough after three months of almost daily interactions to recognize that he wasn’t getting anything more out of her unless he wanted to pull rank and threaten to expel her. With a last look over his shoulder, he plopped down at his desk and went through the motions of answering his email. At one point, Lumi slid a container of brownies in front of him and then she was gone. 

Home, he presumed, but he didn’t exactly have enough mental power to dedicate to the problem, too busy pondering why her entire personality had changed when he questioned her, why her voice had become breathy and sweet- young, non-threatening ( _weird_ ). Despite how- irritated? pissed off? betrayed?- he had felt, the weird cooing and feather light touches had worked what he assumed to be their intended purpose- distraction. 

He pulled out his Scroll and opened up the memo titled “Weird Shit Hazelwood Does” which had such things as “hung out @ roof &stared at water” and “said some1 opened door in hr face” but came no closer to an answer. With a disgusted sigh he threw his phone onto his desk and swiped a square of baked goodness. 

It tasted like ash in his mouth so he threw it too.

  
________________________________________

The weekend came and went in its usual haze of bruised limbs and depleted Aura. Lumi dragged herself out of bed Monday morning with a sigh and a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. Between Saf’s situation (her parents were divorcing, as it turned out), upcoming finals, and Branwen’s accusations, it had been hard to focus on the things she needed to. She’d worked out how to deal with a fair bit of it during the weekend, but the situation with Branwen still felt fresh and painful in her mind.

He was taller than she was, bigger too, and had considerable authority despite his lackadaisical demeanor- all of which had been re-enforced on Friday and left her not sure how to proceed. Did she act like nothing had happened? Go back to how she used to be in an effort not to piss him off? Use more of the methods she used on her mother to placate and calm him? 

Maybe it wasn’t as complicated as she was making it, but it still left her uneasy. 

By lunch she had resolved to let Branwen take the lead and act mostly the same as she had been unless he gave any signs that she shouldn’t. If things thawed between them by finals, she’d ask him for more tips on using Dust in clothes. Mind made up, she nodded to herself and finished up her meal. 

She walked into detention afterschool with a neutral expression on her face and took her usual spot- the table closest to Branwen’s desk with her back to the wall so she could see him easily. 

Her resolve was tested when he walked in and she reflexively flinched, then again when she asked him how his day was and he merely grunted “fine.” Not wanting to bother him and chance anything, she bit her tongue and busied herself with grading. 

She flinched again when he appeared at her elbow, holding the tipperware from last week, though she tried to play it off by stretching. 

“Oh, did you like it?” she pulled her left arm across her body. 

“Yeah,” he dropped the container on the table. 

That was that. He went back to his desk and she turned her attention back to the papers in front of her. Lumi worried her lower lip between her teeth and thought of how the exchange could have gone over better until her hour was up. 

The next day, Lumi planted another anonymous lunch in the class and booked it as soon as the bell rang. Towards the end of lunch, she heard some classmates mention that Branwen found the food and asked whose it was, but no one knew. Someone laughed and said it belonged to the Signal ghost, then someone else cut in with “Idiot! Ghosts don’t eat people food; they eat people!” Which sparked a discussion on what ghosts ate (if they ate at all), if they were real, and why there were no “modern” ghosts. 

She side-stepped the whole debate and privately thought that no one could really stand a ghost that screamed pop lyrics in the middle of the night, no matter how funny it might be to hear about. By the time she made it to detention, it was common knowledge that the Signal ghost hated sea food (because he had committed suicide by jumping off a cliff into the ocean, _duh_ ) and loved Bright Lee Spears’ song “Noxious.” 

Branwen seemed less out of it, which was good, but he was staring at the plain, not booby-trapped container of food suspiciously (not good) while she set up. 

“What’s that?” she ducked her head closer to the food, papers in hand. 

“Someone left a lunch,” he said. “Again.” 

She glanced up at him. “No one claimed it?” 

“No,” he poked it but the chicken alfredo didn’t suddenly grow claws try to attack him. 

“Maybe it was meant for you?” she infused her voice with disbelief and stood up with a frown. “My best guess is that someone saw you eating those terrible E-Z Meals and decided they didn’t want you to die of high blood pressure.” 

He raised a brow at her. “Who’d do that?” 

She shrugged and walked to her seat. “Nurse Piper? Someone trying to get an A? Someone failing and trying to butter you up so they can pass? Who knows.” 

She did; she knew, and the answer was none of the ones she listed. But would she come clean? _Nope_. 

Branwen poked at the plastic for a while longer between tasks until his stomach growled at him and he gave in. Lumi internally celebrated and waited until she was sure that he was out of earshot before she smiled and cheered. Just for a moment, though, because she was paranoid about being caught. 

He walked in with a fork in his mouth, so Lumi let him finish eating before she queried, “Hey, Mr. Branwen?” 

“Hm?” he set the dish aside. 

“So, I have _a friend_ ,” she twirled her bangs around a finger and focused on not-him. “And recently I’ve noticed that she’s been kind of… off. I think she’s been drinking, more than she _usually_ does, and I wanted to know if you had any advice for dealing with that?” 

She might not be friends with Saf, but she didn’t want to see her throw years of schooling away for a temporary problem (or get Lumi caught up in the mess and dragged down too). If that was selfish of her, oh well. 

He hummed and said, “Try to slip her water between drinks and get her to eat. Hangovers are a motherfucker and if her life is bad enough that she’s drinking that much then a headache isn’t gonna help matters any.” 

“Noted,” she started braiding her too long bangs. 

“Also, talk her into goin’ to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting,” he added with a cross of his arms. “That’s usually enough to knock sense into people before they get too deep into the bottle.” 

“ _We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable_.” Lumi quoted. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks.” She gave him a warm grin. 

Qrow stared at her. She knew step one of the Nine Steps word for word and _still_ decided drinking was something she should pursue? And she was trying to pass it off as it being about “a friend”? What the actual fuck?

“Uh,” he began inelegantly- _suspiciously_ , “How do _you_ know the Nine Steps?” 

“My mother used to take me to Meetings,” she said and unraveled the braid she’d been working on. “Well, me _and_ my siblings. If you go often enough, you learn it without trying.” A shrug then she picked up the green pen she used for grading. 

What.

“Your mother is an alcoholic?” he asked dryly. _And you are too, despite that? Are you fucking kidding me, Hazelwood?_

“Yeah,” she crossed through a wrong answer and marked the correct one. “I used to think her sobriety chips were coins, like from those fake money sets. I didn’t get why she got so mad that we used to play with them- they were just plastic circles to us- until I found her ‘intro to AA’ books and sat through someone’s one year ceremony thing.” 

“She had a lot of ‘sixty days’ and ‘ninety days’ ones, and she didn’t really like talking about it,” she continued despite her teacher’s stunned silence. “We learned not to ask. I didn’t see a ‘one year’ chip from her until I was eleven or so. But AA has to work for some people, right? I mean, if it didn’t work at all, why would it still be running?” 

Qrow had no words. “Sorry, kid.” 

She looked at him with a raised brow. “It’s not _your_ fault. And anyways, maybe it’ll help- my friend.” 

She smiled at him again and he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her like a rag doll. He’d come at this problem with the assumption that she was just a lost kid with too much on her plate, who didn’t have any help or information on how to get help. 

He could deal with that- a little bit of coaxing conversation, hints that he was Responsible Enough to help get her pointed in the right direction and started on recovery, a pep talk from Oz- the works. She’d be set, like the other small handful of kids he’d taken the time to talk to. They hadn’t needed half as much work. 

They also hadn’t grown up with AA and decided that yeah, meeting up with skeevy people in alleyways for booze was an okay thing to do. 

Half of him wanted to dump her in Huang’s lap and let the counselor deal with it- he was clearly out of his league and wasn’t she trained for shit like this? The other half of him rebelled against the idea. He’d spent three months working on Lumi- there was no way he could give up now, not with an hour a day for twelve straight weeks hanging over his head. Not with the day-long trip to Beacon, or the free time he’d spent digging through her records to try and find a pattern to her injuries, or the many talks he’d had with Oz or Tai about dealing with teenaged girls; not after all the work he’d put into trying to understand this clusterfuck of a situation. 

Qrow Branwen was nothing if not tenacious and he was going to figure out Lumi Hazelwood’s problem if it killed him. 

Okay, maybe not _kill_ killed him, but he’d given her six months detention and he was sticking to it so she had his attention until then. Afterwards, he could wash his hands and tell himself that he did the best he could. But before all that, he needed a new game plan. No strategy survived contact with the enemy, but re-evaluating what he knew and tinkering his approach would help speed things along. 

He waited until Lumi went home for the day then called up Oz- no better place to start than the wise old man.

  
________________________________________

Lumi was surprisingly chatty during the rest of the week. On Wednesday, _she_ asked _him_ how his day was going then talked about her father’s promise about getting a cat. The man hadn’t delivered on that promise because she and her siblings couldn’t decide on what kind of cat to get and every tour of an animal shelter ended in a fight.

Part of the argument was about how talkative they wanted the cat to be. Their dad reminded them of an old family dog that barked at the front door opening, the bathroom door opening, cars that drove by, mail being delivered, high pitch whistles, the word “ouch,” etc. and that shifted talk away from a loud cat until Ash pointed out that cats didn’t bark. 

Another argument was about how fluffy the cat should be. Long hairs needed constant maintenance like brushing and picking leaves out of fur while short hairs, in the words of Nocte and Ash, just weren’t as cute. Then there was the problem of getting an adult cat or a kitten; whether they should get it from a shelter or a breeder; whether they wanted a mixed breed or a pure breed; whether it should be an outdoor cat or an indoor cat or half indoor and half outdoor. The list went on and on. 

He could not fathom how getting a pet could be so difficult, much less a ball of fur and hatred like a cat. His nieces found a dog one day wandering around, named him Zwei and he became a faithful little dog who adored his owners as much as they adored him. 

Sure, sometimes he liked to pee on Tai’s shoes or chew up the girls’ stuff, but he was a dog; that was just expected of him. Nothing at all like cats, who liked to wait around corners for unsuspecting ankles to pass before leaping out, claws sharp and screaming that infernal screech. 

(Okay, so maybe he was being biased, but the number of times some cat had tried to make him a meal had been too many to count and even in his human form cats liked to take a swipe at him.) 

It was funny, in a way, to have their roles reversed like this, with her talking and him nodding along, but it was also… nice? Granted, he still wanted to throttle her for yesterday’s revelations, but apparently getting that off her chest was the catalyst for her to open up and start talking _to_ him instead of it being him talking _at_ her. 

He looked forward to seeing how this turned out. Maybe, like he’d hoped so many weeks ago, she’d work through it by herself with minimal input from him now that she’d opened up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next week :)


	7. Chapter 7

In court, child custody visits were hashed out as thoroughly as possible to avoid ambiguity and future fights. Major holidays could be spent with either parent on alternate years, or only given to whoever asked for the time. School breaks were also included in the finely detailed contract, going so far as to give curfews for pick up and drop off. 

Lumi’s parents, in their custody contract thing (she was sure there was a name for it but she didn’t care enough to look it up) decided the children would spend Friday from six pm to Wednesday at six pm with their mother during one week school vacations or spend a full week with her and a full week with Delphinus (their dad) for two week vacations.

Which wasn’t to say they couldn’t spend more time with their mother if they wanted to, but that was the caveat- _if_ they wanted to. For the most part, the Hazelwood siblings were happy enough with the time they had and asking for more wasn’t something they’d ever done unless their mother wanted to treat them to a movie or some other activity. 

So Lumi, Ash and Nocte were unsurprised to be told that they’d be spending their first week of break at their mother’s, and the second week with their dad. They were, however, surprised to find out that their mother was taking them camping. Well, more accurately, they’d be staying in a cabin owned by a colleague of her’s and patrolling for Grimm, but aside from short patrols it was basically camping. 

Early Saturday morning saw the three of them trudging out of bed and into their mother’s waiting car, bags in hand and less than excited to be up before the sun. Even Lumi, used to waking at ridiculous hours for school, couldn’t be cajoled into anything resembling an actual conversation until they’d stopped at a Stirbuck’s for coffee. 

Midway through her drink, the slow moving cogs of Lumi’s mind finally clicked into place and started working. Something was… different about her mother. She wasn’t as- intense? sharp?- as she usually was. There was something softer, less on-edge about the way her eyes scanned the road, something gentler in her tone. 

Lumi glanced at the older woman out of the corner of her eye as she sipped her strong, sweet coffee. Shoulder length black hair, violet eyes (no make-up given the hour), thick scarf, long sleeved t-shirt (no stains- new?), worn but not threadbare jeans tucked into equally well-worn boots, no jewelry aside from her bracelet and- 

Huh, that was new. She was wearing a new, bright red one made of some type of string in addition to her normal silver one. There was an ornamental knot at the center of the new bracelet, shaped like a four leaf clover which she vaguely remembered stand for good luck or banishing Grimm or maybe inviting wealth? 

Like most kids her age, Lumi had gotten into making friendship bracelets in elementary school. The hobby hadn’t carried into her teen years, but she could just barely recall an online infograph explaining what different color threads meant. Black, white and red represented Grimm so putting those colors into a bracelet was the equivalent of saying “I hope Grimm eat you” but she couldn’t recall what each color meant individually. 

She pulled out her Scroll and Ping’ed the question. They weren’t far enough away to be out of range of the CCT, which she was thankful for, because she felt like she _should_ know what it meant but her mind was chugging along to no avail and it was driving her a little bit crazy. 

The top result on Ping led her to an article on how to make a friendship bracelet, which would have been useful if she had string to play around with but didn’t exactly help her now. She hit the “back” button and typed “red string clover knot bracelet mean” into the search bar. It wasn’t, technically speaking, a real question or even a sentence, but it wasn’t like Ping was going to judge her half-awake ramble-typing. 

Four links down, she found the answer; that color thread woven in a bracelet with that specific knot meant “good luck.” More specifically, the design came from northern Mistral before the kingdom unified and became popular roughly ten years ago in other kingdoms with the resurgence of friendship bracelets. 

Lumi closed out the web browser and went back to staring at the scenery and drinking her coffee. Finding an answer lead to a handful more popping up- did she make the bracelet? Buy it? Find it in her closet, sitting in a box? Her mother’s family was from Mistral, which made her decision to wear it make sense, but why now of all times? 

They pulled into the airfield in the middle of Lumi’s mental ramblings. Ash and Nocte were asleep in the backseat so it fell to her and her mother to load all the bags into the plane then wake the sleeping pair and herd them onto the aircraft. Once in the air, the youngest two quickly fell back asleep while Lumi resumed her train of thought. 

Try as she might, she couldn’t pin down the change in her mother aside from a new piece of jewelry. No job promotion, or new significant other, or sudden win in the lottery (not that a no-nonsense woman like Verbena Hazelwood would play the lottery, but still). 

An hour into their flight, her mother leaned over the aisle and asked how her finals went (okay, was her response, not sure about her lit exam but she felt she did well on math). After that, she asked if Lumi had made any new friends (kind of, she and Yang and Yang’s sister Ruby had plans to catch a movie next week) and if she still talked to Calypso (yes, and the tall girl somehow got even taller). 

It hit Lumi a couple questions in that her mother was being _nice_ and was _making conversation_ with her. It’s a rare enough event that her stomach flipped with nerves, but not so rare that she started pinching herself to see if she was awake (and she was- she only needed one pinch to remind herself of that). They talked a little while longer before Verbena settled back into her seat and closed her eyes for a quick nap. 

Some hours north, they pulled into a walled airfield and the passengers unloaded. Maybe this week wouldn’t be complete and utter hell, Lumi thought as she wrapped an infinity scarf around her neck to ward off the cold. She was willing to play nice if her mother was too. More than that, there was no need to antagonize the older woman all the way out in the middle of nowhere- she’d have to fight off Grimm that showed up and minimizing all chances of that was a no-brainer. 

Mind made up to not look a gift horse in the mouth, Lumi nodded and helped move all their bags to the waiting rental car. 

________________________________________

Their first day in the cabin was nothing spectacular- cleaning and supply checks mostly, with a little bit of patrolling thrown in for good measure. The second day, however, was much less boring. It started with a hearty breakfast of potatoes, sausage, and eggs with toast followed by a quick patrol. Following that, they all marched out of the warm, cozy cabin for a hike to a nearby waterfall that hadn’t frozen over. 

Patches of snow (which were more like slush than anything) dotted the landscape, and icicles hung from the branches of tall, spindly evergreens. If her memory was right, certain trees had needles that could be boiled for tea- others, however might poison her so she decided to avoid making tea from random plants altogether. 

They explored the area around the waterfall until lunchtime, then trudged back to the cabin to warm up and eat. Despite how little she wanted to move after lunch, Lumi faithfully followed her mother’s footsteps and patrolled the area. They ran into a pair of Hunters from the nearby town, a pair of Huntresses (?) who were decked out in bright orange and yellow (for visibility, she guessed). 

Some chit chat later, the Huntress dressed in orange commented, “-she’s so young! Is she training to be a Huntress?” 

Her mother smiled and gestured for Lumi to step closer. “Yes, it’s been her dream since she was a little girl. I trained her myself with our family’s style so I’m sure she’ll get into Beacon next year when she graduates from Signal.” 

“Oh, how nice,” the one in yellow exclaimed. “I remember my own years at Beacon- they were between libraries and the construction was so loud, even during exams-“ off she went. 

Lumi tried to feign interest by nodding along and adding small comments, but she didn’t exactly know these women and the pile of books by her bed were calling her name. Twenty minutes of polite conversation later, her mother confessed to having two other children waiting for them to be done with their patrol. The older Huntresses waved them off with promises to see each other in town and maybe spar if they had time. 

They didn’t run into any Grimm on the way back though Lumi couldn’t brush aside how different her mother seemed, which brought its own sort of anxiety despite her resolution to not think about it anymore. First new jewelry, then an overall thawing of her personality, and now she’d subtly bragged about Lumi (and herself by extension, but that was to be expected)? What was next, a campfire where they all held hands and sang? 

It wasn’t until they walked back to the cabin and she had a chance to rummage around the pantry that she realized that there was no alcohol in the place. She blinked and searched through the cabinets more carefully. Nothing, not even a shot sized bottle. That was… new? When her mother went to bathroom, she rifled through her bag and found it clean too, aside from a keychain that had a triangle inside a circle emblazoned on one side and the phrase “Welcome!” on the other. 

Oh, her mother was back in AA, she thought and put everything back where she found it. Her mother was in AA again and wanted to spend a week in the forest _with_ them- _without alcohol_. Her sober mother took them on a week-long trip to the north to bond. 

Lumi didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Excitement and hope welled up in chest (maybe she’d actually changed, actually wanted to get help, wanted to stay clean and make up for all the trouble she’d caused) but it clashed horribly with the dread in her gut and the gnawing thoughts of “this is only a phase- when she falls off the wagon (like she always does, you’re always hoping and it’s never a real change) it’s going to be _ugly_ and you’re miles from home; what will you do?” 

She rose on unsteady feet (when did she sit down?) and made her way to her room just past the stairs. She flopped onto bed and curled up, dragged a folded quilt over her head and tried to breathe steadily. The last thing she needed were Grimm scratching at the door. 

In, hold, out. In, hold, out. In, hold, not so long Lumi, out; good. Again; again; again… 

Her warm, humid breath settled into a slow, steady pattern. At one point, someone poked their head into her room then backed out quietly. They must have thought she was asleep, some distant part of her brain reasoned. The reality was that she was freaking out and trying to be polite about it. 

Melt down mostly over, she threw off the too warm quilt and stumbled her way to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Her hands shook and her face was frozen into a half-awake expression, but that was easy enough to pass off as her having “just woken up.” She grinned at Nocte and waved off Ash’s questions- no, she wasn’t sick; yes, she’d play _Kingdoms of Remnant_ with them after dinner. 

Lumi grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet and hoped on all hope that her mother really had changed- that they wouldn’t be stuck hours from Vale with her sharp tongue and violent temper. (Wanted to believe but couldn’t bring herself to.)

________________________________________

Despite her pessimistic outlook, camping was not as terrible as she worried it might be. There were a couple Grimm the next day, but nothing that she couldn’t handle (and despite her mother’s change in attitude, Lumi still had to fight them off herself). On Tuesday, they ended up in town to spar the Huntresses they ran across on Sunday. 

Thankfully, the two went easy on Lumi; not that it meant she claimed a victory against either of them or her mother. The three were _retired_ Huntresses, sure, but they had earned the title on their own merits and a half-trained sixteen year old like her couldn’t hope to compare. 

Against a few of the other teenagers in town, however… Well, she was lucky that the spars took place in the forest, which had plenty to tall trees and long shadows for her to hide in. With luck, her trusty baton and her knowledge of the fact that people tended to drop their weapons when you smashed their wrists, she was undefeated in one on one fights in her age range. 

She tried not to feel too proud about her wins because she had years of formal and at-home schooling whereas they didn’t, but a little bit of the emotion stayed curled around her heart. Unfair match-up or not, she’d earned every win. 

To try and appear as not-a-terrible-person, she offered Aura healing to opponents afterwards, and was thankful that no one seemed to hold any ill will when it was all said and done (she’d had enough of Grimm, thank you very much). 

Her Wednesday and Thursday were dedicated to experimenting with the small gravity-type Dust crystals in the heel of a pair of boots she bought especially for the occasion while her siblings sat on the small porch to watch her. By altering the amount of Aura she channeled to the crystals, she could control how light she was and as a result, jump higher than she ever had before- higher than the tree-line even! Granted, after a few years at Beacon she’d be able to do the same without Dust, but it was cool to experience now. 

Nocte, self-proclaimed master of video games, pulled up a list of things she could try doing which included but wasn’t limited to: a double-jump; a 720 degree shot; upside down target practice; mid-air target practice, and a few other things she pulled up on her Scroll. After a little coaxing that no one could see her if she embarrassed herself doing all the moves, Lumi let loose and started hopping like a rabbit. 

The jumps themselves were fun, but being able to mimic all the fancy slow motion action shots from movies and unrealistic poses from games was icing on the cake. She spun around mid-air like a figure skater and shot a target with barely a glance. Nocte clapped and played another video she could copy. At one point, Lumi even managed a double-jump by solidifying the shadows beneath her feet right as she was coming out of the arc of her first jump (though she wasn’t able to recreate the move more than the one time).

Fun as it all was, they did uncover a couple issues with using the gravity dust. If she powered the crystal enough to let her float like feather, she couldn’t quickly fire her bow multiple times in a row because the recoil knocked her back and off-set her aim. Also, if she was mid-air when she fired (i.e. not touching anything but the air), the recoil stopped or reversed her momentum so she was left floating aimlessly until she was close enough to the ground/a tree to land and/or push away from. 

She could cut off the stream of Aura powering the Dust to regain her weightedness (was that a word?), but then she’d be falling and it was difficult to change directions or defend herself while doing so. If she was going to use the Dust in battle or in a spar, she needed a way to minimize the vulnerable moments. 

But discussing the potential problems of gravity dust was boring, so she kept her thoughts to herself and kept flipping about to entertain herself and her siblings. She bent low, muscles coiled, and leapt high in the air while pushing enough aura into the crystals that she was practically weightless. At the top of the jump, she curled into a ball and flipped once, twice, then significantly reduced the amount of aura she was channeling and fell hard and fast towards the ground. Knees bent, she hit the dirt with enough force that the trees shook around her, their branches and leaves rustled like applause. 

Lumi stood with an exhilarated smile aimed at her awestruck siblings, took one step forward and promptly crumbled to the ground when her leg gave out on her. It took her a half second to realize that she was staring at the sky, but by the time she remembered what she was doing, Nocte and Ash were already at her side trying to pull her up. 

She got to her knees and funneled more aura to the gravity-dust to make it easier for them to help her stand. Adrenaline was still strong in her system, but she could tell from the hot throbbing of her ankle that she had bruised or twisted the joint when she landed and even if she couldn’t feel it, her body was protecting itself by refusing to take weight. 

They dragged her inside, watched her unlace her boots and hovered at her side while she lit her hand with Aura. Her control was shaky from her excitement and the thrill of touching the sky, but a few gentle pulses later she was good as new. 

“See? I’m fine, you two,” she stood and balanced on one foot to demonstrate. 

Nocte rolled her eyes while Ash exhaled heavily. 

“You’re always getting hurt, Lumi,” Ash crossed his arms. “ _Course_ we were worried.” 

“I can heal myself,” she shot back and padded over to the kitchen. “You guys would know how to heal too, if you ever decided to learn.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nocte waved her off. 

Both her siblings had their Aura unlocked, so they really could learn if they took her up on her offer to teach them, but that was an old conversation that Lumi let drop. “Who wants hot chocolate? We were outside for a while, so you’re probably cold, huh?” 

At this, the younger two eagerly agreed and shouted their orders at her. By the time their mother came back from her trip to town, the three were tucked under a thick blanket with cups of cocoa in the hands and snacks littered about the table and folds of the blanket. 

Friday was another hike in the woods after a quick patrol by Lumi and their mother to make sure there were no unpleasant surprises. Ash took more pictures than Lumi think he knew what to do with, but they raced on the way back to the cabin and she let him win. Nocte, with much shorter legs than them, stomped up the path with a scowl and their mother sometime later. She turned her face away with a “humpf!” at the older two’s cajoling and threw herself onto the couch to play MisHonored 3.5. 

It didn’t last long, because after lunch they had to clean the cabin from top to bottom in anticipation of leaving early the next morning. The misery of cleaning (and folding and packing and repacking) united them all so after dinner they sat down to watch a movie. 

Their mother, still miraculously sober, reminded them not to stay up all night and swept up the stairs around ten. The Hazelwood siblings followed a movie later, and dragging them out of bed the next morning was a chore unto itself. Still, the trip had been pleasant and they were sorry to leave the cabin behind. Like before, Ash and Nocte slept on the way home so Lumi chatted quietly with her mother. 

Not as bad as she thought it’d be, despite how her heart sometimes leapt into her throat at the sight of her mother drinking anything before her logic caught up with her. Maybe she could get used to this new way. 

________________________________________

After sleeping away Saturday, and spending a lazy Sunday at home in pajamas, Lumi woke up not-quite-early Monday morning and went to the gym. Then she went home, bullied her lazy siblings into getting dressed and bullied her overworked father into driving them all to the grocery store. He had taken the day off work to spend some time with his kids, but somehow Lumi imagined he didn’t expect to spend it like this. 

He pushed the basket and let the three of them swarm to and fro, grabbing things and chucking them in (or taking things _out_ and replacing them with what was on the grocery list, _Ash_ [no, we’re not getting Fruit Explosion Rolls, you have some at home!]). 

It was at the baking aisle where as she reached for something off an upper shelf that a five pound bag of flour fell and exploded in a clingy white cloud that covered her legs, her shoes, the floor, and anything else in a three foot radius. 

“Really?” she groaned and looked the ceiling with a sigh. The clunk-clunk-clunk of a cart with a messed up wheel met her ears and she wondered if running away from witnesses would save her from having to pay for the ruined flour. 

Probably not, because she was _wearing_ it, but a girl could dream. She turned to who she assumed was a worker putting things back on the shelf and saw Branwen lazily pushing a cart, Ruby and Yang at his heels. She blinked, ignored the half-bitten back grin on her teacher’s face and the girls’ questions, and grabbed the ten pound bag she had been aiming for. 

“I thought you lived on Patch?” she said in lieu of a real greeting. 

“We do,” Ruby piped up. 

“Dad had business in town so he sent us grocery shopping to keep us busy,” Yang shrugged and threw a box of cake mix into the cart. 

Branwen was probably supposed to be the “adult supervision” to make sure they didn’t go crazy buying snacks, but judging from how many bags of chips and boxes of crackers she saw in the cart, he wasn’t doing too good a job at that. 

“Ah,” she said and looked at the other end of the aisle, away from them. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” Lumi waved at the three and slipped past her snickering teacher. 

Her father took one look at her, raised a brow, but said nothing and instead held up the car keys. 

“Thanks, dad,” she went for a hug, thought better of it (flour got _everywhere_ ) and walked to the car to sit and stew. Just when she thought her life was changing for the better, too. 

Well, bad things always seemed to happen around Branwen, so it made sense that she’d randomly get attacking by baking supplies the one time she saw him. 

________________________________________

Lumi got home after the Flour Incident (as she was now calling it) and realized that she had promised Yang and Ruby that they’d hang out. She wrote a reminder on a bright blue sticky note and set the thought aside- groceries wouldn’t sort themselves after all. And she hadn’t seen in her dad in over a week so of course they all had to marathon Daring Devil and catch him up on what they’d done up north.

Then on Tuesday she got sucked into a playthrough of a game she was interested in but didn’t have the system for- and there went ten hours of her day. On Wednesday she worked on integrating her Semblance and gravity dust in preparation for her weekly Grimm hunt/training session with her mother, and that took up nearly half the day- then she had to do laundry and unpack her things which she had pushed to the side because she didn’t feel up to it at first but that was spread over two days and wow, it was already Thursday and wasn’t she supposed to have done something? 

The answer hit her when she saw a blond boy in a red sweater and she nearly dropped her Scroll in shock. Ruby! Yang! She was supposed to watch a movie or something with them and she had completely forgotten- except, she hadn’t because the obnoxiously bright reminder she’d written herself mocked her when she unearthed it from pile of junk on her desk some time later- but Oum they were going to think she was a flake or hated them or something for waiting so long to get in touch. 

Lumi texted the sisters and following a rapid fire chain of messages, the three of them had settled on watching the superhero movie that’d come out last week around three or four, then grabbing an early dinner from one of the little restaurants near the movie theater complex. 

Guilt assuaged, Lumi slept easily that night and didn’t complain as much the next morning when she trudged into the cold forest to fight Grimm. The monsters seemed easier to beat this time around and her mother’s attacks were easier to rebuff, though she wasn’t sure exactly why, so she decided it was the perfect environment to field-test her Dust boots. 

She used her Semblance to flicker between ground level and tree cover when the amount of Grimm grew to be too much or when she needed a breather from the quick bouts of hand to hand, but used the boots to kick off from enemy to enemy on the ground and lessen the impact of her jump from the crown of a particularly tall trees in an homage to Mercenary’s Oath. 

When she tried the iconic leap of faith for the second time, her dust crystal gave out and she found herself desperately clutching at branches to slow her fall. Her nails clawed uselessly at twigs and her palms scrapped roughly against the deep, furrowed bark as the ground and the Grimm below hurtled towards her. 

Her body slammed against a thick branch and her ribs screamed as she curled around the support, fifteen feet from the ground. She coughed heavily and slipped a few heart stopping few inches before she curled her right arm over the branch and yanked herself back up. 

Her shoulder screeched in agony but she managed to shoot the snarling pair of Grimm dead and get from the high ground to where her mother was sitting by using her Semblance. A quick examination later, she was herded back into Vale and told to rest. Too much of her aura had been spent between augmenting the level of Dust use and protecting herself from attacks, so while she could heal a good chunk of her injuries, her shoulder would have to be kept in a sling and her ribs would be tender until she could rest up properly. 

Despite her injuries, she kept the appointment she’d set with Yang and Ruby, who naturally freaked out until Lumi explained that she’d been sparring with her mother- loudly enough in her haste to reassure them that her voice bounced off the open air dome and met the ears of a certain group of resting birds. 

The other two jumped in with stories of when they’d trained too hard too, and in-between popcorn and city crushing superpowers, they’d managed to have a nice time out. Yang eagerly recounted the fight scenes while Ruby theorized how the main villain’s ray gun would actually work and Lumi chimed in with trivia she’d “picked up” (coughcough _specifically looked up_ coughcough). 

She went home with a full belly and fell asleep with a content smile. She woke up slowly the next morning, with a text from her mother that because of yesterday (and the week they’d spent up north) Lumi was free from her weekend spars until next week. 

Her good mood continued from yesterday as healed more of her shoulder and whipped up a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, sausage and potatoes to round off her surprisingly not-terrible winter break. Midway through her batch of pancakes, she heard a firm set of three knocks from the front door and a muffled voice call out. 

Lumi opened the door to a set of sharp eyed police officers and stared unblinkingly at them as they explained that someone had called Child Protective Services and could she please get her parents or other adult on the premises?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, whatever will she do? :)
> 
> See you next week!


	8. Chapter 8

Lumi left the door ajar as she turned mechanically on one heel and marched to her father’s room. 

“Dad,” she called through the door and knocked twice. “The police are here.” 

The words felt unreal on her tongue but she forced them out anyways. She tried to think of when she’d slipped up, what she could have done to have warranted Child Protective Services being called on them but her mind came up blank. Her feet lead her to the kitchen where her pancakes were just starting to burn. 

_The police are here_. 

She flipped the pancakes and tended to the other dishes she was cooking. 

_Child Protective Services is here_.

Two weeks into winter break, and she hadn’t seen a teacher aside from Branwen at the grocery store (hadn’t been injured when she saw him) so who in the actual hell called CPS? Why? Why would someone do something like that so close to the new year? 

_The fucking **police** are here_. 

Lumi slammed the pancakes onto the serving platter and tossed another splash of batter onto the hot pan. She plated the easy over eggs and popped the yolk in her haste (then mentally screamed). Her aura was practically storming beneath her skin, begging to be released. Her body’s simple logic of stress = adrenaline = time to fight (or get the hell out) was working against her and she needed desperately to calm down or she’d cause more trouble. 

She drew in a deep breath, held it, let it go. Another deep breath, she latched onto her aura and directed it heal any lingering injuries she had. She had wanted to wait until after breakfast, because using aura on an empty stomach was a dumb idea, but well- _CPS was at her damn house_. It wouldn’t do to even wince from soreness around them. 

Rather than wait for the rest of the food to finish cooking, Lumi snatched up her mildly burnt pancakes, smeared a bit of butter on them, then wolfed it down. She threw two slices of bread into the toaster, then used them to mop up the spilled yolk and ate that too. 

She didn’t even _want_ to eat, despite all the effort she was going through to cook breakfast. Her stomach was too tangled up in knots; anger, confusion, betrayal, and fear battled for dominance from her heart to the pit of her stomach. With luck, she would develop an ulcer before the authorities left and have to be escorted to the hospital, which would then be added to the case as a failed suicide or poisoning attempt. 

“Lumi,” Ash hissed at her. “Ix-nay on the Semblance-ay.” 

The violet eyed girl blinked and realized that her semblance was thickening the shadows to tar beneath her feet and all over the kitchen. Nocte was “casually” trying to open the cabinet with her entire body weight as a result. 

She took another deep breath and tucked away her power where it belonged. Ash burrowed under her arm for a quick, tight hug then let her go and joined Nocte at the table. 

Semblances were tricky like that- you spent hours trying to find out what yours was, and once you found the trigger for it, you had to train yourself out of only using that emotion or using it when you felt that emotion but didn’t need it (she hated to admit that here she struggled).

Lumi finished up the latest batch of pancakes and turned the stove off, uncooked batter be damned. She fixed three plates and set them at the table- then stood back up to make her dad a plate. She put it in the microwave and hoped the police would move from questioning him to getting statements from her and her siblings soon so they could try and salvage something of their morning meal.

Nocte, the sibling with iron nerves, ate without problem while Lumi pushed her food around her plate and Ash sipped nervously at his orange juice. 

Police were only ever called in when there was Hunter involved, which her father definitely wasn’t but her mother was (well, used to be). They didn’t live together still, but that didn’t matter because the Hazelwood children lived at _this_ address so that was where the police went. Later, they’d go ask her mother a few questions, which didn’t bode well for the woman’s fledgling sobriety or Lumi’s continued good health. 

When she found out who called CPS on her two days before returning to school, she’d make them a nice treat laced with laxatives. 

A kind faced social worker stepped into the kitchen with a reassuring smile and a weathered satchel. “Hi, I’m Shel Leander. I work with Child Protective Services to ensure that kids, like you all, aren’t being hurt or neglected. May I ask who’s the oldest?” 

No, Lumi wanted to say, you may not. You may, however, leave and never set foot in this home again. 

“I’m the oldest,” Lumi informed him and fixed a nervous but sincere smile on her face (it was, of course, fake). 

“Great,” he clapped his hands. “I’m going to ask you a few questions about your home life. Anything you tell me will stay strictly between us, okay? So your mom or your dad won’t know what we talk about unless you tell them- but you don’t have to tell them unless you want to.” 

Yes, yes, I know how all this goes, Lumi mentally groused. You ask questions, I tell you whatever the hell will get you to leave quickest, then you’ll ask Ash and he’ll say the _same thing_. Next, you’ll throw a few questions Nocte’s way and she’ll say the _exact same thing_ then you’ll gather your notes and nothing will come of anything except maybe a visit in a few weeks. 

“Alright,” she glanced down at her plate and fidgeted in place (adults respond better when you were polite and slightly nervous- it was _endearing_ ). “Uh, would you like something to drink before we start?” 

“No thank you,” he pulled out a clipboard and untucked a pen from his shirt pocket. “I’m fine for now- but it’s kind of you to ask.” 

Ugh, Lumi was already done with this whole thing.

________________________________________

Some indeterminate but painful amount of time, the police and social worker left with a promise to keep in touch and relay any updates about the case. 

Joy. 

The Hazelwoods convened at the kitchen table to at least attempt to eat the meal Lumi cooked even if their hearts weren’t in it. Partway through, Delphinus curled his fingers around his ceramic mug and in a soft tone asked if their mother was abusing them in some way, if they knew who or why someone would report a case of _physical abuse_ to social services. 

They were as lost as him. 

Eventually they drifted from the kitchen to go do their own things. True to form, Lumi grabbed her gym bag and set off for a few hours of mindless exercise while Nocte settled herself in front of a video game and Ash pulled out his sketchbook. 

But instead of heading to the gym, Lumi took an airbus to Beacon and carefully exuded an aura of “do not talk to me” all the while. When they landed, she followed the bulk of the crowd down the main avenue and ducked into a random bathroom to change her clothes. 

The ride hadn’t been very long, but it was long enough for her to text her sometimes client Aqua and find out that their team was away for the holiday weekend. She stepped through her own shadow and into Aqua’s room long enough to deposit her bag then step out onto the jogging path that looped around the school. She made sure to stretch and put in her earphones before she took off and alternated between an easy lope and a grueling pace with every lap. 

When she figured that she’d run enough to lighten her mood from “I will poison whoever called CPS” to “what the fuck ever, I’m over it,” she did a monumentally stupid thing and strolled into Emerald Forest to pick fights with whatever low-level Grimm happened to be lying around. 

Anger sated, but guilt still lingering (because she doubted Nocte or Ash were at fault for getting the attention of a _concerned citizen_ so it had to be her doing) Lumi left her cuts and bruises to heal naturally (though she did disinfect and bandage them because she wasn’t a huge idiot). She stress-baked what seemed to be a small cafe’s worth of treats on Sunday before she calmed down enough to be mostly pleasant. 

On Monday morning she dabbed a bit of concealer and foundation onto her face to mask her not-quite-black eye, packed a “please forget that time I embarrassed myself” gift, and dressed comfortably in a thick sweater, a pair of fleece-lined tights and her trusty boots. The first day of a new semester meant a schedule change, but since she’d passed all her classes last semester and was a third year, that mostly meant sitting around for an hour in the morning while the first and second years stressed out about extracurriculars and the like. 

Third years had the option of automatically sending in their transcripts once first semester grades were in, which she did, to all four Hunter academies that she had to rank ahead of time in order of preference. She and other applicants would hear back in April, so the only thing she could do until then was keep up her grades. 

Lumi doodled the stylish outfit Professor Goodwitch had been wearing the last time she’d seen her and drew a few variations on that same theme until it was time to get to her _actual_ classes. Her schedule said she had Literature first, P.E., lunch, then Weapons and Math. 

She thanked the universe that she hadn’t ended up in Weapons for fourth period. An hour and half class followed by an hour detention was far too much time to spend in Branwen’s class. Her back ached at the thought of being stuck on those tall stools for two and a half hours. 

Speaking of Branwen, the last time she’d seen him she was covered in flour in the middle of a grocery store. She hoped that he’d forgotten the Flour Incident but braced herself for teasing nonetheless and had her customary offering tucked away in her bag. Their relationship was actually pretty good, all thing considered, so maybe he’d help her feel better just by being himself. (She still didn’t know who she’d given enough reason to call CPS and that fact was beginning to irritate her more than it depressed her.)

\--- 

Qrow gathered up the weapon evaluation forms his first year class had filled out and sighed. Some students had come a long way with improving their weapons and he was proud of them for it, but an annoying handful either refused to listen to his advice, continued to do sloppy work or- in the case of one particular brat- just bought a new weapon for every eval. That was a lot of lien to be throwing around for an assignment that popped up every month or two and was only worth a quarter of their overall grade. 

The door to the workshop swung open and he looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. Did someone leave something behind? If it was that brat…

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Lumi said with a smile. “I was worried that I would miss you.” 

So, not the brat (whew). 

“You sayin’ you didn’t miss _your favorite teacher_ over the long break?” He shot back with a grin. 

She raised a brow. “I saw you last week, but if you’re willing to forget that without a bribe…” 

“No, no,” he reached out and wracked his brain for wh- ah, the grocery store. “That part’s still completely necessary. Who knows what I might do if I don’t get my tribute…” 

“I shudder to think,” she deadpanned and handed over the tipperware container. “Please have mercy on me, o’ great Branwen.” 

“Smartass,” he said while prying open the lid. 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a cinnamon roll cake, in case you’re wondering.” 

“Noted,” a few crumbs fell from his face. 

How in the- he was a huntsman so really, she shouldn’t be so surprised that he’d opened and eaten half a slice in the time it took her to roll her eyes, but somehow it still amazed her. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t get indigestion or something tragic like that. 

“Don’t choke,” she said a fraction of a second before he started choking. Lumi turned her eyes to the ceiling as if searching for answers. 

“Thanks for the help,” Qrow rasped and sucked in a deep breath which lead to a coughing fit. Didn’t she know Aura healing or some shit? He was almost positive the type of kid who’d pick up healing on her own would take the first aid class Signal offered- a class which clearly went over _the signs of choking_. 

“You seemed fine to me,” she adjusted her bag’s strap.

Harsh, Hazelwood, harsh. 

He shot her a betrayed look, which she smiled at and tilted her head innocently to the side. 

“It’s lunchtime, so I’ll let you get back to your, ahem, _E-Z Meals_ ,” she turned on her heel and strode out. 

He grumbled at her retreating form. She was a cheeky brat when the mood hit her, but at least she didn’t buy a new weapon every month. 

Also, her level of openness had remained the same as before winter vacation. He had worried that she’d go back to evasive half-answers and vague but distressing off-handed comments. 

It was… nice.

________________________________________

Lumi walked into Branwen’s class for the third time that day and took her usual seat for detention. Her face felt heavy, and a quick peek at her compact mirror revealed that all the concealer and foundation she’d been slathering on had become a cakey, wrinkle-ridden mess. She sighed and dug around in her bag for the small packet of make-up wipes she had (thankfully) remembered to carry. It was weird to wipe of skin colored make-up, but it was even weirder to look into the mirror and see the slight difference in skin tone between her made-up half and her clean half. 

She balled up the dirty wipes and set them aside then waved her hands to help dry her face more quickly. Carrying around make-up and having to constantly re-apply it was a pain and she decided that she’d just heal up her bruised eye instead of suffer through another application of cold, gooey foundation. 

Her hand lit up with Aura and she had scarcely touched her cheekbone before the door to the class swung open. The white energy seeped beneath her skin as she darted a glance to the side. 

“What’re you doin’?” Branwen fixed her with a narrow-eyed look. 

She was caught flat footed. “Healing?” 

“Healing what, kid?” he stopped a few feet away and placed a hand on his hip. 

“My eye,” she smiled nervously. “Uh, I hit it on the table, so…” 

He scrutinized her for a moment then turned on his heel and went to his desk. “Alright, well you’ve got weapon evals to file, so hop to it.” 

“Will do,” she cleaned up her wipes and tucked away her mirror. “So how was your first day back?”

“Blossom’s still tryna badger me into supervising a club, that one kid is still buying a new weapon for every eval,” he shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

She hummed and plucked the messy stack of papers from his desk. “What club?” 

“Not sure, but the answer’s no,” he woke up his computer screen and pulled up his e-mail. 

They worked in companionable silence until Qrow spoke up, “What’d you do over break, kid?” 

Lumi told him about her week up north and experiments with Gravity Dust crystals. She carefully edited out spraining her ankle and all the video game homages instead saying she did flips and rolls mid-air. He pointed out some flaws of relying on Dust for movement, which she picked his brain for solutions to. 

The hour let up before their conversation did, but Lumi excused herself anyways and promised to bother him tomorrow. He waved her off and went back to the work he was supposed to have done. The next day, they picked up the discussion and Qrow took the opportunity to badger her into incorporating a fire-arm into her arsenal. 

“Branwen, no,” Lumi rolled her eyes at him and entered in a few notes into a student’s file. “What’s next; you’re gonna tell me I should add a cape to my Huntress outfit?”

“Well, if you want to emulate the coolest Hunstman you know,” he stretched his arms up and over his head. 

“I’ll be sure to ask Mr. Xiao Long where he shops,” she teased. 

“Rude,” he deadpanned. 

“Mm,” Lumi hummed and saved her work. “Well, enough about me, what did you do over break, Branwen?” 

There wasn’t much to say- much he could say actually considering his business with Oz- but he told her about baking with his nieces and going into the town square for end of the year celebrations. 

“Oh, that sounds so nice,” she set aside another sheet. “My family stayed home- well, except for me.” 

“Whaddya mean?” he asked casually while scrolling down a page. 

“Someone called social services on us on Saturday,” she explained while typing. “So I went for a run to calm down. Then we weren’t really in the mood on Sunday to do much of anything. We all watched TV together, and I baked a little, but that was about it.” 

“Why did social services show up?” He looked up from his Scroll. 

She shrugged. “I guess I gave someone the wrong idea and they felt concerned enough to call? I’m not… I don’t know _why_ though. The cops never find anything and CPS always says they’ll check in, but, I mean,” She wrinkled her nose. “I won’t hold my breath.” 

“You get CPS called to your house a lot?” Qrow typed a few notes on his phone but kept his tone light. 

“Not really,” she leaned back from the screen and stretched. “Not anymore at least. My parents divorced and the amount of visits we got went way down, but every once in a while CPS pops back in for no reason.” 

“People don’t call social services ‘for no reason’,” he looked her over. “And most folk don’t like to get involved in others’ business unless they think they’re gonna make a difference.” 

Lumi scowled. “Yeah well ‘ _people_ ’ need to mind their own business.” 

He sighed. “You can’t think of a single reason someone would look at you and think ‘yeah that kid needs help’?”

“No,” she deadpanned. “All our neighbors know I’m training to be a Huntress, and the teachers here should put two and two together.” 

“Yeah well, _normal ‘training’_ doesn’t usually end with the amount of injuries you show up with.” He shot back. 

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it, Branwen,” she snapped. 

“Alright,” he stood up and walked closer. “You look like the poster child for abuse. Training shouldn’t leave with your bruises and fractures and _broken bones_ \- not unless your parents are using it as an excuse to kick you around.” 

“My dad’s a computer programmer,” she exclaimed. “He couldn’t hurt me if he tried!” 

“What, no defense for your mom?” He placed one hand on the desk and leaned forward. “Is it because she’s the one knocking you around?”

“She taught me everything I know,” Lumi stood up and mimicked his aggressive posture. 

“She taught you how to be an alcoholic too?” He crossed his arms and rose to his full height.

Lumi recoiled as if struck. “W-what?” 

“Look, actin’ dumb doesn’t suit you,” he sighed. “You’re smart enough to figure out Aura healing- on your own at that- so you’ve gotta know that drinkin’ won’t solve your problems.” 

“I already told you I don’t drink!” she ran her fingers through her hair. “And no one’s abusing me! Where are you getting all this from?” 

Qrow exploded. “I _caught_ you buying whiskey in an alley! You’ve got a history a mile long of coming to school injured- with injuries you _should’ve_ been able to heal if you hadn’t been run ragged and had your aura basically gone. Just before break you showed up with booze all over your shirt and a half-assed excuse that someone ‘spilled’ it on you.” 

“Why do you care?” she shouted . “I’m serving your stupid detention like you wanted- just leave me alone!” Her fists were clenched at her side, knuckles white in her distress. 

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he hissed. 

“I told you,” she took a step back but Branwen met her foot for foot. 

“No,” his voice was like a razor to her nerves. “You _lied_ to me. I want the _truth_ , Hazelwood.” 

“I…” Lumi’s voice caught in her throat. “I didn’t lie.” Her eyes burned as she meet his unyielding gaze. “Training’s _hard_ and I’m not- I’m not that strong,” a shudder ran through her frame and then she was full on sobbing. 

_Great_. 

Nearly seventeen years old and she was crying in front of her Weapons teacher because he yelled at her with what he thought was a legitimate reason. _How pathetic_ , she chastised herself through the tears; it was a perfect illustration of how weak she really was. 

Qrow shifted in place and internally struggled with the opposing impulses to run far, far away, offer comfort or press her for answers. He wasn't a total heartless bastard, but weren't there school rules in place about this sort of thing? That teachers should not, at any point or for any reason, put their hands on a student? Well, that was more to prevent abuse, and he didn't want to seduce the weeping slip of a girl in front of him, so surely the rules could be bent for this one situation? 

Turns out he wasn't great at this whole "talking" thing but hugs always worked on his nieces and that was worth a shot wasn't it? He placed one hand on her shuddering shoulder, then the other, and drew her into a light hug. She didn't reciprocate, but she didn't pull away either, so he counted it as a win.

A couple minutes later that felt like an hour, Lumi wiped her eyes and broke away from his tentative hold. He stopped counting cracks in the walls and looked her over. 

“You good?” he asked gruffly. He bit back the twenty other questions that sat on the tip of his tongue. 

She nodded, but didn’t look at him; skirted around him to reach her bag. Strap in hand, she muttered “bye” and slipped through the shadows to the bus stop. 

Well, there went that.

________________________________________

Unlike in the movies, life didn't get miraculously better after her small breakdown in front of Branwen- no sudden personality change where he backed off but they remained friendly and the situation got glossed over like a bad dream. If anything, it got worse.

First, her mother finally got a visit from CPS; which greatly worried her boss, the police chief, who then called her into the office for “a chat.” Her mother, of course, then called Lumi and demanded to know why this all was happening, and when Lumi couldn’t give an answer, she hissed something foul and hung up. 

Which made Lumi cry again, because she had somehow reverted back to being her weepy seven year old self. 

Second, everything was incredibly awkward between her and Branwen. She barely spoke two words to him if she could help it, and he responded in kind. Their one attempt at breaching the divide ended up making everything worse because she wouldn’t admit to a drinking problem or being abused and he flat out didn’t believe her- in part because she’d taken a tumble while experimenting with Dust during lunch in effort to clear her mind, and had thus limped into class with a twisted but not unbearably injured knee.

Worse still, she had to go with her mother on the weekend and the woman had been brutal in their training sessions. She soundly trashed Lumi with a show of skill that left no doubt in her mind that her mother had whole heartedly _earned_ her diploma from Haven Academy, then made Lumi heal herself before they went back into the ring. 

The weekend ended early when on Saturday, dangerously low on aura and bleeding, Lumi narrowly dodged a blow that carved a deep gouge in the floor by stepping between one shadow and the next. She took in the scene with wide eyes (that had nearly been her, that mark in the dirt) and quietly said that she was tired. Verbena rounded up all three of her children and dropped them back home with little more than a goodbye. 

That Monday, Branwen eyed her bandages with suspicion, but when she tugged down the sleeves of her sweater and purposefully looked away, he didn’t say anything. Lumi was too tired to do much of anything except finish marking papers and slide them onto his desk. 

It was tiresome to be stuck in a cold war with him. She saw him for two and a half hours a day every day except weekends, and an hour of that time was spent without other people around to act as a buffer. She took to wearing applying foundation before class and doing touch-ups just before detention to hide how little sleep she got. 

On top of that mess, hours were eaten up by her mother’s rapidly switching moods. She hadn’t texted Lumi for three days after nearly crushing her into red paste, but then she called with that guilty broken tone that Lumi crumbled to every time and asked between tears if she was mad at her, if she was okay, if she could forgive her for lashing out in stress. 

Verbena asked for forgiveness but didn’t say sorry, didn’t really apologize or make mention of how she was in the wrong for using such force against her teenaged daughter- yet Lumi’s tender heart lead her to mouth the words anyway; it’s okay, I’m fine, I should work on being faster, I forgive you. 

Lumi fielded calls at all hours of the night, some more coherent than others, of her mother reminiscing about when she’d been younger, fresh from the academy with her team at her side and her weapon on her back, or when she’d fallen in love with Delphinus and had three adorable children, or when she’d given up being a Huntress to become a cop so she could spend more time at home and didn’t Lumi recognize how much she sacrificed for them? Didn’t Lumi appreciate her at all? How could she be so _selfish_?

She knew, in a clinical detached way, that she was being abused; just because she could heal herself afterwards didn’t negate the fact that Branwen and all those stupid online checklists were right in their assessment. It didn’t change the fact that she could look at a “cycle of abuse” poster and point out every tactic at every stage her mother used. 

The problem, however, was that by claiming that she _was_ being abused, _was_ being emotionally manipulated, that it _would definitely_ be reported and the paper trail went back years which meant that undoubtedly she and her siblings would end up in a foster home while their parents ended up in jail; her mother for abuse and her dad for neglect (how did he not notice, the courts would ask and shepherd the Hazelwood siblings to a “safe” place where they’d never see each other again.) 

There was also the issue of proving to Branwen that she wasn’t a teenaged alcoholic. She could submit to breathalyzer tests every day, but a smart alcoholic would just save drinking until they were out of school for the day or drink in the mornings and use both lunch and P.E. to work any lingering alcohol out of her system. And while her weapons instructor might not be happy with her right now, he admitted that he thought she was smart and it would be just like her to carefully conceal her problem like that- she did it with abuse, why not with her (fake) drinking problem? 

Except, of course, for the fact that she doesn’t drink, _at all_ so she’d have to give up her side-job which was the real issue even if her teacher didn’t know it. 

The entire thing was a mess that kept Lumi up at night and soured her stomach. She should have kept quiet, shouldn’t have mentioned the visit from CPS, should have diffused the situation with all the tricks she’d picked up over the years, shouldn’t have given so much away, should have healed herself completely every time before class. 

Her mind felt like an ocean of “should have”s and “shouldn’t have”s with playbacks of her fight with Branwen interspersed with her mother’s voice murmuring about all she’d done for them, all she’d done to help Lumi get stronger. 

So on Tuesday of Week 3 of Life Is Hell, she slid a container of chocolate chip brownies onto Branwen’s desk and softly said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore, can you forgive me?” 

She kept her spine steel-straight as he sighed and got up. She didn’t even turn to face him or flinch away when he walked around his desk and reached out for her. She kept herself very still and blinked away the sudden burning in her eyes when he messed up her hair with a grumbly, “Yeah, okay.” 

Lumi had learned the art of not really apologizing from her mother, and Branwen surely knew that she was only repentant for arguing and yelling at him (but not for lying about the injuries and alcohol), yet he swept it under the rug and they settled into a calm, quiet co-existence for the rest of the month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to upload this chapter to AO3, apologies! Chapter 9 is written and will up on Monday as per my regular schedule. 
> 
> See you next week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning for (kind of, not really) suicidal actions- you'll see.

Qrow Branwen was a miserable man. 

The many, many desserts Lumi had brought him in sat heavy in stomach and saccharine sweet on his tongue. He didn’t even like desserts that much, but two or three times a week his quiet little student brought him a container of something sugary and probably time-consuming to make so he plastered a grin on his face and accepted yet another dense, chocolatey, much too sweet peace offering. 

He was raised by bandits and on a good day he vaguely remembered what the word “polite” meant, but whatever bridge he’d built with Lumi was fragile and he was unwilling to cut the rope to point blank tell her he was sick of her baking. The kid looked fragile enough as it was, even if she hadn’t come to class with an obvious injury in weeks. 

Talking had never been his strong point, but challenging her to a spar to work out his frustrations didn’t seem like a smart idea either so he suffered in silence for a couple weeks before he dredged up the courage to ask Tai what he should do. 

Taiyang was an idiot, but he was also incredibly reliable so he only laughed in Qrow’s face for fifteen minutes before sharing his sage advice. 

“Just let her down gently,” he wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s that simple.”

He grunted and his longtime teammate translated with ease- _What the fuck does that even mean?_

“It means that the next time she brings you something,” he placed a hand on his hip and gestured with the other. “Say thank you and tell her that while you _appreciate_ her gifts,” he stressed the word unusually hard, “it’s a bit too much, and she doesn’t have to keep apologizing. You know, water under the bridge and all that.” 

Ozpin was even less helpful when he asked for advice, and proposed the wild idea that Lumi had a crush on him so he should tread carefully to avoid breaking her tender heart. Qrow downed half his flask at that and prayed on every star he could name that that wasn’t the case- things were bad enough between them with just normal mentor-mentee things to worry about. 

Wait, were they even mentor and mentee? He’d been teaching Ruby ever since her birthday but that wasn’t even close to the same thing he had with Lumi- but he also didn’t treat her like he treated every other student who passed through his class, so where did that leave them? 

Ugh, the last thing he needed were more complications. The thought was cast aside. 

Qrow threw back another swig of whiskey and grimly decided that he was ready to confront Hazelwood. He walked into the workshop with all the self-assurance of a man on a mission, and nearly walked right back out at the sight of Lumi with her face in her hands and her shoulders raised to her ears. 

“Hey, kid,” he called a little softer than normal. 

“Hi, Branwen,” she lowered her arms and smiled tiredly at him. 

_Do it, tell her to stop bringing you food._

“You okay?” he asked and stopped by her seat. 

“Yeah,” she sighed heavily in a very not-okay way. “I’m… I’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.” 

_Tell her._

“No problem,” he said instead and plopped down at his desk. 

Downtrodden but determined, Lumi graded the stack of work and left that day with another tired smile. 

Qrow smacked his head against the desk a few times and berated how soft his nieces had made him. He went home with the persistent thought that _tomorrow_ he’d tell her to stop feeding him. He kept that thought with him the next morning, and held it until detention when Lumi sidled up to his desk and placed a familiar tipperware container on his desk. He could _feel_ the words swell up in chest. 

“I know you’re probably tired of my food,” she said with a self-deprecating grin. “But the freezer’s finally clear, so thank you for suffering through it.” 

The words died a short, painful death. “Don’t mention it,” he said and passed her that day’s work. 

When she turned to go back to her seat, he resisted the urge to slam his head against the desk again. All of that suffering, and she’d only been using him to clear the freezer? Did he look like a human garbage disposal?!

Lumi corrected work as usual, ignorant to her teacher’s inner turmoil. 

_Quiet little problem student_ indeed, he muttered to himself and opened up yet another e-mail from Blossom about supervising a field trip that he was going to “accidentally lose.”

________________________________________

The week after the lackluster end of the Baking Fiasco was the start of Field Trip Season, which meant fundraising and that meant at least one bake sale from a club trying to earn a couple more bucks before they set off.

Lumi watched as Branwen turned faintly green when Hyde, an enthusiastic boy in the Sharp Shooter Club, tried to convince him to buy something from the club’s bake sale and started listing a mile-long list of things. 

Which, yeah, she could relate. For all that she fed Branwen, she and her family had to eat the treats too and there was only so much she could comfortably push into Yang’s hands so that meant weeks of baked goods for snacks, dessert _and_ breakfast. She promised herself that the next time she became unbearably stressed she’d try something unrelated to the kitchen. There was no way she could go through the whole ordeal again and not be forever turned away from sugar. 

Hm, maybe she’d leave him another lunch as an apology? She toyed with the idea even as her teacher slapped some lien into Hyde’s hand and loudly declared that he should give away whatever the money had bought as free samples. 

Then Hyde was swarmed with hungry teenagers (hadn’t they just had lunch?) who wanted to know what he was selling and if it was any good and Lumi was too busy looking up recipes on her scroll to notice Branwen side-eye her and shudder. 

In detention that day, Lumi took out a piece of paper and wrote down everything she knew about Branwen’s taste in food. “Greens = not a meal” was written at the very top because he still complained about Nurse Tanner trying to convince him to eat a salad and “nothing sweet” was written right beneath that. He said something about lizard meat (maybe?) so she scribbled that down too then went hunting through her past notes for any other clues. 

From what she remembered from her other donated lunches, he liked chicken well enough- fried chicken more than chicken alfredo- so there was probably something there. She jotted down more notes and looked up recipes in-between grading. She left that day with a grocery list in mind and a distracted good-bye. 

On Wednesday, she ran into Yang on her way to lunch. The taller girl slowed enough that Lumi could catch up and they chatted amiably as they grabbed a tray and filled it full of food. Lumi waved off the younger girl’s invitation to sit with her and her friends with the excuse that she had some homework to finish up and worked best without distractions. 

The blonde let her go after wrangling a promise from her that they’d hang out soon. Lumi sat in a quiet spot and ate most of her lunch then purposefully dropped an apple and ducked beneath the table where it rolled to. She quickly grabbed the container with chicken stir fry and rice and slipped into the shadows. She appeared in the fabrication room just across from the weapons workshop. 

The door was locked, and only teachers could unlock it, but she didn’t need to bother with things like doors with her Semblance. She closed her eyes and focused very hard while she thickened the shadows. Across the hall there was no pinprick of light that signified an active Aura, so she stepped from the room into the workshop and quickly stashed the meal where she was sure it would be found. 

At this rate, she might just give up on being a Huntress and become a thief or something secretive like that. Lumi shook her head at her thoughts and crouched into the dark corner between two cabinets then scrambled out from under the lunchroom table with her apple in hand. 

No more than three minutes had passed, which she was proud of, so she allowed herself a moment of preening then set to the rest of her lunch (she cleaned off the apple with a napkin and a bit of water before she ate it, of course). She didn’t have homework to finish up, but since lunch was an hour long she checked her math anyways then logged onto Timblr until the bell rang. 

It paid to be her teacher’s unofficial teaching assistant, because she that meant she had access to his lesson plan and could hide a meal for him in the textbook cabinet- which a student opened and hollered that someone had left food sitting around. Lumi unpacked her things as Branwen plucked the container from among the books and plopped it in a desk drawer with a shrug. 

Another small flush of pride alighted itself in her chest which she basked in before she got up and grabbed her own book to do the assignment. Later, she trudged to math with a small self-satisfied after turning in her work and by detention she was settled enough not to give herself away. 

A third of the way through grading, Lumi called, “Hey, Branwen?” 

“Yeah, kid?” he scrolled down a page and typed a few words. 

“Do Yang and Ruby have any pets?” she drew a mark through an incorrect answer. “My family still can’t decide what kind of cat to get.” 

“They have a dog,” he looked at her with a shrug. “Dunno how much help that’ll be.” 

She hummed, “Alright.” She busied herself with papers for moment. “Do you know of anything fun to do on Patch?” 

He paused and side-eyed her. “What kind of fun?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Like, bowling or something?” 

“I can think of a few things,” he leaned back in his chair and spun around. “Rock climbing for one.” 

Lumi scrunched up her nose. “Mm, how something a little more family and civilian friendly?” 

“Civilians can rock climb,” Branwen shot back. “But alright. How do you feel about indoor trampolines?” 

She thought about Nocte’s eyes when Lumi was mid-air doing an overly complicated flip. “I’ve never been but it sounds fun.” 

“Great, there’s a new place that just opened up,” he went back to his screen. “June-something… Ah, here we go. ‘Junebug Jump House’.” 

Lumi wrote down the details and smiled widely at him in thanks. He blinked in shock then returned a familiar grin. 

Things were okay again between them, it seemed, and not just in the polite but distant way it had been a week earlier.

________________________________________

Lumi walked into detention and didn’t see Branwen at his desk, which she shrugged off until she saw a broad-shouldered man in a tank top at the sink (how handsome!), scrubbing vigorously at something in his hands. It was apparently ineffective if the glare he (oh hell that’s Branwen- _bad brain_!) gave the ball of sudsy paper towels in his hand was any indication.

“Hey, Branwen,” she shook her head to clear her thoughts and walked up to him. 

He grunted in reply, apparently too preoccupied to bother with pleasantries. 

She peeked around his elbow and saw that the fabric was actually his shirt, which had a dark splotch at the breast pocket- had his pen exploded again? She thought he would have learned after the last few cases of pens exploding in his pocket, but maybe not. She pulled out her Scroll and Ping’ed how to remove ink stains. 

The top result was rubbing alcohol, but some people suggested soaking the stain in milk overnight. Well, rubbing alcohol it was then. She left him at the sink and poked around. A workshop ought to have at least a bottle, right? It was a good disinfectant and a classroom of teenagers with sharp, pointy weapons had plenty or scratches and wounds to go around. 

Wrong- the only rubbing alcohol she found was an empty bottle halfway buried in the scrap bin. There went that plan, but maybe… Lumi rifled through the junk on Branwen’s desk and found his flask next to his rings and tattered cape. She still wasn’t sure if he refused to replace it or get it tailored because it looked cool or because the likelihood of it staying nice-looking was incredibly low so he didn’t bother. 

She grabbed a little cup from a short stack of others that was probably meant to hold salsa or ranch but that her teacher kept a supply of to put small screws and bolts in. She poured a fair amount of whiskey into it and put the flask back where it belonged. 

“Here,” she tapped his shoulder and lifted the little cup. “This should help.” 

“Thanks?” Branwen stared at her like she’d grown another head but took the cup and knocked it back. 

It must have been her turn to be bewildered because _what the fuck_.

“You… you were supposed to use it on the ink stain,” she pointed to the blotch and discreetly pinched herself just to make sure she was awake. 

“Oh,” he said. 

They stood there for an awkward moment before Lumi plucked the bit of plastic out of his hands and went back to the desk for a fill-up. It was enough to shock Qrow into rinsing his hands and tossing away the soggy paper towels. Lumi came back with a rag and handed it to him too. 

“Please don’t eat the rag,” she said with teasing grin. 

“Hm, I dunno, my only other option is an E-Z Meal,” he soaked the spot then dabbed at it. 

“Really?” she tilted her head to the side. “Can’t you cook?” 

“A little,” he said. “Better with a campfire than a stove though.” 

She hummed. “Do you not have time? I know a bunch of quick recipes that I could share, if you want.” 

“Sure, why not?” he shrugged and the motion did interesting things to the lines of corded muscle along his shoulders and back. 

Lumi choked and scurried away to her seat. She didn’t know where this sudden train of thought came from but she wanted it to kindly _not_. She didn’t need this kind of stress!

She threw herself into scribbling down a list of recipes and looked up the expected prep plus cook time for each of them just to avoid the possibility of her brain betraying her with images of Branwen’s strong arms- _fucking stop dear Oum please_. 

Detention passed tortuously slow as if time itself was mocking her, but she muddled through it by rewriting the list and adding personal notes to each recipe. She rewarded herself with a stop to Stirbucks on the way home and sipped happily on the creamy, frothy hot cocoa as the airbus flew across the bay. 

Fortunately for her, Branwen was fully dressed when she walked into the next day’s detention. Unfortunately, it was a Friday and while her mother’s random messages had dwindled to manageable levels, by Lumi’s estimation she would still be hung up about her latest lapse in sobriety. 

She sighed, took her seat and pulled out her math homework. 

“What’s eatin’ you kid?” Branwen called from his desk. 

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing serious,” she waved him off. “It’s just supposed to rain this weekend, and I’m not looking forward to training in the mud with my mother.” 

He hummed and scrawled a grade atop a paper. “Where do you train, usually?” 

Her teacher didn’t seem too invested in the conversation and it had been nearly two months since their argument, so Lumi didn’t hesitate before saying, “Forever Fall, but we might go to the Emerald Forest instead.” 

“Oh?” He looked up from his desk. “Your mom go to Beacon?” 

“No,” Lumi shook her head and twiddled her pencil. “She’s from Mistral and she went to Haven, but she likes to shake things up, fight different types of Grimm, ya know?”

He nodded. “Well, be careful. Oz told me there’s a giant Deathstalker out there somewhere.” 

“Alright,” she scrunched up her nose. “You wouldn’t happen to know where it was, by chance?” She fixed him a too-bright smile. 

Branwen rolled his eyes. “Why d’you want to know- you planning to fight it?” 

“No, no,” she assured him. “I plan to stay far, _far_ away from it.” 

“Well, there’s a class about Grimm at Beacon, but here’s a sneak peek; Deathstalkers like caves,” he said meaningfully.

“Avoid caves, got it,” she nodded. 

They chatted a little while longer then refocused on their work. By the end of the day, Lumi had picked up a few tips about hunting in the Emerald Forest and Branwen learned where he could go to gather in-field data on his quiet little student and her Huntress mother. After five months, he felt it was time to see for himself what was going on.

________________________________________

Like the weather predicted, it was cold and rainy on Saturday morning. Like Lumi predicted, her mother still dragged her onto an airbus to Beacon despite the previous fact and together they trudged into the Emerald Forest.

Once they were under tree cover, the rain turned from a shower to misty patter, which suited the younger Hazelwood just fine. She liked rain, loved it even, but only when she was indoors and curled under a thick pile of blankets. 

After a quick warm-up they were on the hunt for Grimm- though it was less of a “hunt” and more of an aimless wander because the amount of monsters the collective emotions a school full of young adults could draw in was staggering but unsurprising. Honestly, once you got deep enough into the forest, the Grimm became pests. 

Two or so hours later, Lumi ducked beneath an Ursa’s swing and smashed its knee in return. She followed up the hit with an Aura-fueled smack to its other arm then jumped back as another Ursa entered the fight. She cast her eyes for the best position to shoot the two Grimm from and quickly stepped from her spot on the ground to an out of the way tree branch. Polaris, her weapon, easily shifted between baton and bow form as she pulled out three arrows and shot the backs of the unsuspecting Grimm. 

The one she’d smacked around disintegrated and it only took another arrow to down the other. She breathed out evenly and directed a smidgeon of Aura to her boots to activate the gravity Dust. With a leap, she bounded from branch to branch until she caught sight of her mother slicing a Nevermore’s wing to wispy shreds. 

She let the older woman finish off the Grimm before she approached. “Should we break?” 

“Might as well,” she hefted her halberd over her shoulder. 

They marched back to their starting point where their backpacks were safely stashed on a tree’s branch and wrapped in a waterproof tarp. Lumi grabbed the bags then rifled through hers for the honey and oats granola bars she favored. 

A bird cawed loudly as the rain continued to drum a soothing beat against the leaves. She had to admit that nature was incredibly pretty and soothing- if it weren’t for the fact that she’d woken up before the sun and been made to fight literal monsters for two hours, she would have called it a nice morning. 

She debated with herself whether or not to heal up her small injuries now, or to save the Aura she had for the fight. In the end, she left the little bruises but made sure to heal her slightly wobbly ankle- it would do no good to lose because her stance was weak. 

She took her spot across the clearing from her mother and waited until the other woman called start before she flickered between one shadow and the next to deliver a swipe at her wrist. Her mother countered with her own baton and they were off. 

Attack, step, retreat, dodge, jump, press- between one strike and the next Verbena’s baton turned to a halberd and Lumi retreated to the trees with her bow. She took aim and shot three arrows laced with fire dust at the ground, then stepped across the clearing and shot at her mother’s back when the wall of flames ignited. 

The “ding” of an arrowhead being deflected by a metal met Lumi’s ears and she frowned. Of course things couldn’t be that easy. She drew the shadows closer and stepped into and out of them with every footfall as she let loose more arrows- which were dodged, deflected or cut out of the air. A few managed to hit, including one that was filled with electricity dust to her delight, but it wasn’t enough to take her mother out the fight.

She got a few more shots in before Verbena charged her and Lumi flipped over the initial attack. They batted at each other until Lumi took an aura enhanced blow to the leg and crumpled to the ground. The sharp, shiny metal of the halberd swung overhead and she gasped “yield” just before the blade split the earth six inches from her head. 

She blinked and re-materialized at the base of a tree where their bags were. With a sigh, she sat up and dragged her backpack over then plucked out a few more granola bars and began shoveling them into her mouth. A bird cawed overhead, but since a Nevermore didn’t swoop down and steal her food, she didn’t care. 

After a quick healing, she struggled to her feet and slung her strap over her back. Her mother led her back to the airbus and the two of them boarded without a word. Muddy and soaked, she didn’t dare sit down so she suffered the entire ride back. When they landed in Vale, Lumi nearly sighed in relief. The trek back to her mother’s apartment was short, but her throbbing knee and various bruises made the trip mildly hellish. 

She showered and changed then stuffed her face with whatever Ash and Nocte set out. She was tired but her mother’s temper had cooled in the weeks since the chat with her boss, so Lumi wasn’t beaten to a pulp and in need of serious pain pills like some of the other times. 

The next day was more of the same though Lumi was sent flying with a smack from a King Taijitu’s tail, which she was pretty sure bruised her back in what would later become a spectacular bouquet of purple and blue. Rather than go home and listen to her mother’s criticism on ways she could have fought better (even though the older woman could have definitely intercepted the strike and saved Lumi the pain), she convinced her mother to let her head to the Beacon library instead. 

Verbena stared her down with sharp violet eyes but nodded. “Fine, be home by two.” 

Lumi bit back a relieved sigh. Her mother must be mostly over the CPS visit if she was allowing her to go out by herself on a weekend visit, she thought and turned down the main avenue towards the school. While her knee had mostly recovered before today’s trip, it twinged the longer she walked so she stepped through a shadow to a familiar building.  
The halls were as empty as she remembered from her last field trip, which was a blessing. She didn’t need anybody to see her covered in mud and limping to the women’s bathroom, thank you very much. 

She threw her bag and jacket on the counter then gingerly peeled off her shirt and peered at her slowly darkening back in the mirror. She winced at the sight and lit her hands with the small amount of Aura she still had. Far as she could tell, nothing was broken or even fractured (though a few ribs creaked menacingly when she contorted to drag her fingers across a dark splotch) and the deep ache receded to a general pain. 

According to her Scroll, she had almost no Aura left after that, which put a sharp pin in her plan to heal her knee a little more, but she felt well enough to hang around the roof and eat her snacks- that had been her plan to begin with. She felt a tinge of guilt for leaving her siblings with their mother, but the older woman was in a better mood than she’d been in since falling off the wagon (again) so it probably wouldn’t be too bad for them. Also, she didn’t need all her flaws and missed opportunities shoved in her face.

Also also, she _still_ didn’t know who called social services but going home two days in a row limping and wincing would likely get noticed so laying low in a school of students that sported the same injuries as her was just a smart idea. 

Lumi wiggled back into her shirt and shrugged on her coat. Smart idea or not, she didn’t feel like being around people, per se, so she grabbed her backpack and shadow-stepped onto the roof. The view was just as lovely as the last time- more so considering the heavy clouds and brisk wind that cooled her warm face. 

She plopped onto the ledge and pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich. She washed it down with water, which was the only thing she ever brought to drink when training, then munched on an apple. There were a few granola bars left in her bag, but she wasn’t really in the mood for honey and oats. The cafeteria ought to be open, right? She gazed at the steady waves in the bay for a while in thought, then got to her feet and leapt from the roof. 

While you needed to have an activated Aura to unlock your Semblance, you didn’t need aura to _use_ it, so she was happily falling face first towards a shadow that would gently deposit her by the cafeteria when a heavy weight smashed into her ribs. The world flipped and darkened incomprehensibly then came to a grinding stop. 

Lumi gasped and struggled in the iron grip of whatever had interrupted her and let loose a quick breathless chant of “ow ow ow ow ow” as the pressure on her poor back tightened just a smidge. 

“What the _actual fuck_ were you _thinking_?” a familiar voice hissed in her ear. 

“Ow,” was her eloquent response before she plopped through a shadow two feet away and groaned loudly. She caught sight of bright red and craned her neck just enough to catch sight of one very pissed off Branwen before she curled into a ball and groaned even louder. “Kill me now.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, turns out I forgot to update my AO3 with the rest of this fic. 
> 
> /// oops///
> 
> Here you go! Mostly unedited :)

A few hours of observing a student kill Grimm in the forest was a boring way to spend a Saturday, but it confirmed Qrow’s suspicions and so was time (mostly) well-spent. A half-hour chatting with Oz on the best way to handle Lumi’s case while taking into account her age and history was also time well-spent, especially since her detention sentence was drawing to an end. 

Watching that same student _jump_ off a fucking roof was a terrifying handful of seconds that no one with half an ounce of sense in them would call “time well-spent.” 

For her part, Lumi was too busy bemoaning her incredibly injured body to care much about time. 

“I think you fractured my ribs,” she pressed two fingers to the radiating ache in her chest and hissed when it throbbed in pain. 

“You were two seconds away from breaking your stupid fuckin’ neck and you’re complaining about your ribs?!” Qrow was struck with urge to punt the miserable puddle of problem student halfway across campus. 

“What?” she lifted her head to stare at him. “What do you mean? I was going to the cafeteria.” 

The urge doubled in intensity. “ _You jumped off a building_.” 

She continued to stare at him. “Ye-s? What does- oh, _oh wait_ , uhm, I get what you mean,” she said slowly then melted through her shadow to appear on the other side of him. “My Semblance lets me travel through shadows- I wouldn’t have even hit the ground.” 

He choked out something that might have resembled a sentence if language was over eighty percent cursing. 

“Yeah, uh love you too and all but I am in _serious pain_ and kinda hungry so if you could maybe get me something to eat, I would _really_ appreciate it,” “She pushed herself up slowly and gritted her teeth to hold back the shriek of agony that threatened to burst out of her. Ugh, she was going to skip class tomorrow if the miserable burn that punctuated every breath didn’t let up by night fall. 

She missed the dark, murderous look that crossed her teacher’s face as she lumbered to her feet- which was for the best, really, because her previously calm mood was quickly souring and she was in no condition for a shouting match right now. 

Qrow’s fingers twitched towards his weapon but he had enough sense left in him that he didn’t knock her across campus. She was definitely on cleaning duty when she returned to school though. 

Lumi limped forward a step or two then stopped with a hiss. Walking shouldn’t make her ribs ache but somehow it did. While she had been exaggerating about her ribs being fractured, she didn’t actually know and if they hurt this bad… she yanked up the hem of her shirt.

“What the fuck!” He slapped his hand over his eyes. 

“Look what you did to me!” she shrieked. 

It was probably his Semblance’s fault that this train wreck of events came to be, but that didn’t stop him from cursing everything he knew. A quick peek out of the corner of his eye revealed the livid splash of red and purple across her pale skin, more so on the left than the right where his arms impacted her body. 

“Is there a problem?” A strong, no-nonsense voice called off to the side. 

Fuck his life- how did the situation get _worse_?

“No, no, _it’s fine_ ,” Lumi stressed through a tight smile and tugged her shirt down despite the twinge of agony that ran up her side.

“Uh-huh,” the woman crossed her arms over her chest and looked between the two of them. Lumi was mess of mud and favored one leg while Qrow was clearly uninjured with a weapon strapped to his back. “What does a _Huntsman_ need with a Beacon student anyway? Are you a scout?”

“We were sparring,” the lie slipped easily from Lumi’s lips. “But he doesn’t really know his own strength, ya know?” she laughed sheepishly and brushed her bangs out of her face. “Everything’s okay though, promise. We’re just gonna call it quits for today.” She channeled the most self-assured and cheery smile she could muster and subtly adjusted her body to look less ragged and worn.

“If you say so,” she said mostly unconvinced, with a suspicious look to Qrow. 

“I do,” she chirped and bumped her shoulder- ow ow ow- against Branwen’s side to (not so subtly) hint that he needed to wrap his arm around her in a show of solidarity. “But thank you for your concern!” 

The other woman hummed and slowly walked away. Lumi maintained her wide smile and turned her body to fit better under Branwen’s arm as she chattered about something meaningless. When she was out of sight, Lumi sighed and slumped against her teacher. 

“So that’s how you do it,” Branwen mumbled to himself and stared down at her. 

“Hm?” She looked up. 

“Never mind,” he shook his head.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so cryptic, Branwen,” she chastised. “And anyways, you owe me a roll of bandages and some Hot Ice.” 

“Do I now?” He raised a brow at her. 

“Yes,” she insisted and used her thumb to jab him. “My ribs were perfectly fine until you slammed me out of the sky.” 

He grimaced. “Why don’t you just heal yourself?” 

She looked away with a sour expression. “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you _can’t_?” His arm tightened of its own accord. 

“ _Let go_ ,” she hissed and drove a knuckle between two of his ribs. “And I can’t because I’m out of aura.” 

He let her squirm away. “ _Out of aura_?” 

Ugh, could he make an original sentence? “Yeah,” she huffed. “Or you could buy me something to eat- I’m not picky.” 

He turned his head back to the clock tower and mouthed “what the fuck” at the security camera. He didn’t have enough mental energy to deal with all this- especially not after the heart attack she’d given him.

“Whatever, I’ll get you something to eat. Go see the school doctor, kid,” he flicked her forehead and walked off. 

She grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “asshole” but shadow-stepped away before he could retaliate. She was most definitely _not_ going to the school doctor but she had pain pills, Hot Ice and bandages in her room- though she wouldn’t complain if Branwen brought her extras with the food. It was always good to have back stock. 

It was half past eleven, which meant that her dad was either still asleep or had woken up and retreated to the study- either way she didn’t have to be too quiet. Her back was a mess and her ribs were worse, but the numbing sensation of the Hot Ice was a welcome one. She wrapped herself like a mummy and slipped on a clean shirt then knocked back a couple of Tyrianols and raided the fridge for her father’s delicious barbeque pulled pork. 

She hummed in joy at the taste then shadow-stepped back to the same spot she left from. 

“Did you cough up _blood_?” Branwen shouted at the sight of her. 

Lumi hastily wiped her mouth. “No, it’s barbeque pork.” 

She’d probably given him something like three heart attacks to- “Wait, if you could get food, why’d you make me buy you some?” He narrowed his eyes at her. 

“You slammed me out of the sky,” she deadpanned. 

“You jumped off a fuckin’ building,” he threw a pack of donuts at her. 

Lumi sighed and ripped open the bag. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” She really didn’t need to get into another argument with him.

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “punk ass student” but she was too busy devouring the three tiny donuts to care much. He shoved a poorly wrapped sandwich into her hands after that, then a bottle of apple juice. 

“Oh, yeah, what are you doing at Beacon anyways, Branwen?” she finally thought to ask halfway through the juice. 

He motioned vaguely, “I was talkin’ to Oz.” 

She racked her brain for a moment, “The… headmaster?” That would explain how he saw her jump off the roof- you could see everything from the top of the tower. 

“Yup,” he stuck his hands in his pockets. “You good now?” 

“Yeah,” she shifted her weight to her other leg, winced, shifted it back. “I think I’ll go to the library for a little.” 

“Alright, don’t jump off anymore buildings, kid,” he said, mostly (completely) serious. 

“Mmhmm, love you too, bye,” she waved and shadow-stepped away. 

He got halfway back to Ozpin’s office before it hit him. “Wait, did she say ‘love you’?”

________________________________________

Lumi did not in fact go to the library. Instead, she went home, lounged about for half an hour, hopped in the bath for scalding hot soak then got out and shoveled four plates worth of food into her face. Her father was well used to her habit of clearing the fridge so he snagged a serving and let her be.

She popped back to her mother’s place ten minutes ‘til two like she promised and spent the next couple of hours doing homework or watching TV. When she was properly home, she went straight to her room and passed out. The Tyrianols kicked in at her mother’s which helped her not cringe at every breath, but sleeping would regenerate aura more quickly. 

When she woke up two hours later, she checked her aura levels with her Scroll and swore- four percent! She didn’t expect to be full up, but she had been hoping for maybe eight or ten percent to be back. Her sleep-addled mind stumbled along a logical train of thought to rationalize the low level of regeneration.

Two major injuries, a smattering of smaller ones, and a short two hour nap- not exactly ideal conditions. The rate at which her aura replenished must be just _slightly_ higher than the rate at which it healed her many, many hurts. Also, if any bones had fractured or if her organs had taken a hit then that would have been another major drain on her energy.

Lumi groaned, healed what little she could, and dragged herself out of bed, once again at basically no Aura. Not for the first time, she wished aura was smart and healed major injuries first, but it and her traitorous body healed everything at the same rate unless she made it do otherwise. 

Her loving family- the ones who _didn’t_ let her get smacked around by monsters- were watching a movie and the lights were low. Nocte and Ash, bless their hearts, saved her a pizza so she snagged it and gently lowered herself onto the armchair. She happily munched on cheesy goodness and between one blink and the next it was suddenly an hour and a half later. 

“Go to bed, star light,” her dad murmured and curled one arm around her shoulders to help her out the seat. 

She hummed and leaned against him all the way to her room, then she crawled under the blankets and fell asleep before her head hit the pillow. The next few hours were a hazy mess- she got up a few times to go to the bathroom, maybe, and get something to drink- she also must have turned off her alarm at some point because when she woke up it was midmorning. 

Her body creaked miserably so before she got up she spent all of her Aura on healing. Now that she had time to focus inwards, she could tell that yes, Branwen had definitely fractured her ribs, but only three of them and the cracks were thin enough that with a little focus they vanished completely. 

Still, maybe she could guilt-trip him into buying her Stirbucks? 

First though, she had to get out of bed, and get dressed, and then get on the airbus to Patch and wow that seemed like an awful lot of work; hadn’t she already missed first period? It would be so much easier, and probably better for her health, if she stayed home and healed up… 

But, her traitorous brain reminded her, Branwen had seen her bruised and limping, so she should probably put in the effort to get to school by lunchtime and re-assure him that she hadn’t died before he did something dramatic like get Mrs. Huang to schedule an at home counseling session. 

Still, she lazed in bed for another half hour or so before she found the strength to get up- for real this time. She first dragged herself to the kitchen to brew coffee and grab a snack, then back to her room to get ready. Dressed in a semi-decent outfit consisting of a long sleeved top and a wool skirt over tights, she tucked her charger into her backpack, shrugged on a coat, swept through the kitchen for her drink and then was off to the bus stop. 

On her ride to the Midtown Transit Center, she thought about how was easy it was to look put together when wearing a skirt or dress, even if very little actual effort went into the outfit altogether. By the time she arrived at Signal, there were twenty minutes left of second period, which was P.E. with Mr. Xiao Long and ha ha ha, **no**. She strolled over to her literature class instead and waited outside the door until the lunch bell rang. 

In the pandemonium, she made sure to slip her late homework into the first period tray then follow the crowd to the cafeteria where she ran into Yang- again. 

“Hey, stranger,” Yang nudged her. 

Lumi smiled at her. “Hey.” 

“Whatever happened to ‘let’s hang out soon’?” she teased. 

“I’m free now,” Lumi countered. 

“Great,” she led her to an empty table. “So am I.” 

They caught up over lunch, with Yang’s friends filling the rest of the space. Lumi told her about the disastrous Sunday she’d had (then quickly reassured her that she was back to perfect health, even if that wasn’t exactly the truth) and followed it up with talking about her gravity dust boots and how she used them to demolish kids her age when she was up north. 

Here, Yang got a gleam in her eye and Lumi felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise up. 

“So, those kids up north… any of them cute?” Yang leaned in with an eager grin. “Did you guys start a bonfire? Have to huddle close for warmth?” 

Oh; oh no. 

“Not, exact-ly…” Lumi looked away with a grimace; her last relationship hadn’t exactly ended well. “Uh, I guess some of them were cute? And we did get invited to a party, but we didn’t end up going because we had to get up early and pack.” 

She blew out a breath. “Boring! What’s the point of a vacation if you don’t make out with a few strangers? Ya know, like a whirlwind romance under the stars!”

What the hell, Yang? Aren’t you like, fifteen???

“Sounds, uh, fun but I guess I’m just a boring person,” she drawled and shoved a few chips in her mouth to avoid talking more. 

“That’s not what I heard,” she said slyly and winked. 

Oum above, what _now_?

“And what have you heard?” If Claret was running his mouth again she was going to-

“Well, a friend of mine was talking about throwing a party on Saturday ‘cause her parents are going out of town,” she twirled a lock of hair. “And I heard that _you_ could get drinks, so…” She looked at Lumi with expectant eyes and a smile. 

Well fuck. Lumi only sold to people she could be mostly sure wouldn’t toss her name about, and if Yang was friends with one of her clients, and that client name-dropped her then that implied a certain level of trust between her client and Yang- meaning Yang for sure knew that Lumi could and _would_ get booze. _Fuckity fuck fuck fuck_.

Contrary to the wild pace her mind was running at, her face was sculpted into a nonchalant expression. “I might be able to,” she said. “But that’s not really a conversation you want to be having at a crowded lunch table.” 

She looked around and her smile grew a little wider. “So is that a yes?” 

Ah, to be young and not paranoid. “It’s a maybe. Show up at the track afterschool and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Cool!” Yang picked up her lunch and started eating again. 

Lumi waited out the rest of the hour with her nerves gradually settling in the pit of her stomach. Yang was more than happy to talk enough for the both of them and bid her a sunny goodbye when the bell rang. 

Well, money was money, she rationalized to herself as she trudged to class. As long as Yang didn’t accidentally rat her out (which was her biggest worry about the whole thing considering that the girl had a teacher for a dad and a teacher for an uncle), she didn’t really care who she was selling to. 

She wasn’t much in the mood for banter, but she strolled into the weapons workshop and bumped against Branwen the same way Yang did to her. “My ribs were fine, by the way, just a little cracked.” 

He looked down at her and raised a brow. “And you’re telling me this, why?”

“It’d make me feel better if you’d get me a gift card from Stirbucks,” she smiled innocently. 

“Or you could sit down and I won’t fail you,” he shot back with a mocking smile. 

Well, she tried. “I’m hurt, Branwen, real hurt.” She said with a hand to her heart then walked away. Just for show, she laid her head on the table and sighed loudly in his general direction. He didn’t say anything, and tried to act like she wasn’t sitting ten feet away, looking sad and pathetic. (Prick, she’d definitely remember this for later.)

Despite the morning healing and big lunch, Lumi was still incredibly sore and not a little achey so her sighs weren’t completely fake, but she powered through it by funneling her Aura into healing more quickly as classes dragged on. When the last bell rang, she was only mildly sore as she made her way to the track. 

She set her Scroll’s microphone to record and waved at Yang as the other girl jogged through the throng of students. It was easy enough to figure out what she wanted (a twelve pack of wine coolers, case of beer, bottle of vodka and pink lemonade mix), then rattle off the cost and confirmed that it was for Ming’s party on Saturday. 

All in all, it took about fifteen minutes. Lumi told Yang to show up to the pool on Friday with Ming and payment in hand, then stopped recording and waved goodbye to the excited blonde. She shadow-stepped into the hallway just around the corner from the weapons workshop, and immediately smashed her nose into a warm wall. 

She had just enough sense to throw her arms up in front of her when a sharp elbow sent her to the ground and a heavy foot smashed against her shoulder. 

“Oh fuck,” she groaned and then- 

“ _Lumi_?” 

She opened her eyes and followed the long, lean line of leg up to the ceiling, “Branwen?” 

“What the hell are you doing?” he removed his foot from her shoulder. 

“You’re heavy,” she hissed as she rose on an elbow. “And I was trying to get to your class.” 

“Little off there,” he looked at the door to the class then back at her. 

“I figured,” she grumbled. “Anyways, usually no one’s in this hallway, so I don’t have to check where I appear.” 

He hummed but made no move to help her pick up her scattered belongings (yeah, she was going to get him for this). He did extend an arm to her as she rose on her knees, at least, so she took the peace offering and pricked her aura against his as the mild form of retribution. 

She snickered when his aura reflexively flared to life against an enemy that didn’t exist. 

“Punk,” he shook her off. 

This time she hummed, which Branwen rolled his eyes at. She followed him into the classroom, shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the table along with her bag. 

“Why’re you late anyways?” he called from his desk. 

“I had to finish healing the fractures in my ribs,” she lied in an attempt to make him feel bad. “But little did I know that you’d brutally assault me the moment I was done and bruise me more.” 

He scoffed. “I doubt that even hurt you.” 

Lumi tugged the wide, low neck of her shirt over her shoulder to show the red mark there. 

He sighed. “Whatever, kid,” he held up a stack of papers. “You have work to do.”

“Sir yes sir, Mr. Branwen,” she said, regretting the fact that she ever offered to help him grade. 

He gagged. “Ugh, I told you not to call me ‘sir’,” he shoved the work into her hands. 

“Of course, my apologies…sir,” she curtsied and bit back a smile. 

“Mm,” he eyed her like he wanted smack her upside the head for her cheek. 

She wisely chose to retreat and start grading. She finished early and just barely managed to restrain herself from saying “here you go, sir” when she handed back the papers. On the ride back home, she stared out at the water and nearly fell asleep as the soothing tide rose and fell. 

Even though she’d only been at school for half the day, it felt like she’d been there for far longer because of all the aura she’d used to patch herself up from Branwen’s two unexpected attacks and her own injuries from the weekend. She wondered if being unexpectedly attacked would be a new thing for the two of them, then immediately hoped with all her heart that that wasn’t the case. Branwen was a tried and true Huntsman and she wasn’t even technically a Huntress-in-training yet- she’d never survive if she had to worry about two Hunters’ attacks.

________________________________________

Saf’s order had returned to its normal size, though whether that was because the issue with her parents’ divorce had settled or because she realized (after Lumi wrapped a pamphlet for AA around a bottle of bourbon) that drinking so heavily couldn’t end well, she wasn’t sure but also didn’t really care.

Lumi delivered the familiar order during lunch, collected the waiting stack of lien, then stashed Yang’s order beneath the bed and stepped back into the bathroom stall she’d used to hide what she was really doing. There were a little less than ten minutes left of lunch, so she decided to head to class a little early. 

Branwen was sitting at his desk, listlessly shoveling microwaved lasagna into his mouth. She allowed herself a moment of pity for her poor bachelor teacher, then remembered that she had a list of recipes she’d written for him last month and had forgotten to bring in- oops. Well, by her calculations next week was her last week of detention so she’d bring it then to commemorate. 

She snagged an evaluation form from his desk and retreated to her seat- a different one from detention. Yesterday had been the first of March, so this would be their next to last eval before they graduated in late May. She wondered if the brat who bought a new weapon for every evaluation would keep that up for two more years, then decided that no, probably not. Not if they were serious about becoming a Hunter, anyways. 

On the other hand, they could also just be at Signal for the prestige of the school’s name so they could join the police force. Either way, it was wasteful to buy so many weapons when a baton and handgun were all they really needed, but it wasn’t her problem so she wouldn’t interfere- the brat would learn or they wouldn’t.

She had more important things to focus on, like how to reconstruct Polaris to have a lethal close-range form in the time between this weekend’s visit and next weekend’s, or even if she should. There was some merit to leaving Polaris as it was and picking up a second weapon, but keeping herself to one weapon and giving it three forms was equally good. 

The new form or new weapon would have to be a blade of some kind, because her problem last week was that blunt force was no good against a King Taijitu- it didn’t have limbs or joints she could aim for. It also tracked by scent unlike other Grimm that mostly relied on sight or sound, so even hopping from shadow to shadow hadn’t saved her for long. She might’ve been fine if she had a partner to distract it, but her mother refused to step in unless it looked she was about to die. 

Lumi shook her head and filled out the form as her classmates started streaming in. With three years’ experience it was almost reflex and because she came in early, she was the first to finish. The rest of school passed fairly quickly after that, until she was back in Branwen’s class, pockets full of lien from her latest transaction. 

The teacher in question wasn’t there, so she took his seat and wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer. She rifled through the things on his desk until found the evaluation forms for her class then opened up the program that held the schedule for evaluations. This, too, was nearly reflex because not only did Branwen make her file the forms, he made her put them in order and write the time each eval was supposed to be at in the top right corner. 

She could attest to the fact that he did a lot of weapon evaluations, especially during the first year, so it made sense that he’d gotten sick of having to do all this work for every class’ round of evals and had thus dumped it onto her. 

He stomped into the workshop almost midway through the hour, a murderous expression on his face and blue ink smeared not only across his features, but down the top of his shirt and all over his left arm. 

“I need you to order more fire dust, and put in a request for a new printer,” he said and furiously pumped the soap dispenser. No soap came out except for a bubble or two. 

“COME ON!” he shouted and turned the water on- or tried to. The “hot water” knob came off, which he looked defeated at then tried the “cold water” knob. It worked, which he grimaced at but stuck his brightly colored hands into the stream anyways. 

Lumi watched him, then quietly asked, “Did you set the printer on fire?” 

“No,” he said with disgust. “But I will when I’m not fuckin’ _blue_.” 

“Maybe don’t do that, Mr. Branwen?” she got up and went searching through the cabinets in the vain hope that he’d finally ordered more rubbing alcohol- no such luck. “I’m sure the principal won’t be happy if you do.” 

“It’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better,” he scrubbed harshly at his (sadly) still blue skin. 

She pursed her lips. “I tell you what, Branwen, I’m going to go get some rubbing alcohol from Nurse Tanner and in return you _don’t_ set the printer on fire. Instead try to find some clean rags, please?” 

He grumbled something indistinct that didn’t sound like he agreed with her plan, so she quickly melted into the shadows and appeared in the infirmary. The lights were off, which she took to mean that Nurse Tanner had gone home, but didn’t let that stop her. She flipped on one light, ransacked the cabinets for rubbing alcohol and cotton rounds, turned the light off and stepped back into the weapons workshop. 

Her teacher had three bottles of fire dust in hand and was still bright blue. 

“Hey, Branwen, I’m back,” she said and cheerfully held up her hands despite the fact that she was screaming internally. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” She strolled forward and tried to block his line of sight with the door. 

He looked between the rubbing alcohol in her hands and the dust in his for a tense moment, then set the dust down. He stomped over to his desk, threw himself into his seat then leaned his head onto one fist. “Whatever, let’s get this over with.” 

Thank Oum, because if it came down to it there was no way she could restrain him. 

Lumi dragged a stool over and picked up a few mostly clean rags on the way. She unscrewed the bottle and was hit with the scent of menthol. Her eyes watered but she dutifully doused a rag in the liquid and passed it to her disgruntled teacher. He scrubbed at his left arm while she neatly folded a second one and poured more alcohol on it. She handed it to him when he threw aside the first, stained one. 

His effort to remove the blue ink was a little less vicious so she spoke up, “I think I can get the stain out of your shirt, if you’d like.” 

He grunted and unclipped his cape then undid the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t ruin it.” 

“Alright,” she prepped another rag for him then took the fabric and went to the sink. While she soaked the collar, she started rambling about the many theories about aura, all the while keeping her voice low and steady. When she finished with the shirt, she rinsed it with cold water and laid it on a stool to air dry. 

“-but modern scholars think that aura color is linked to our semblance because of the trend of individuals with similarly colored auras having similar types of abilities,” she retook her seat at his side and grabbed the cotton rounds. “Would you like me to get the back of your neck?” 

He shrugged and spun around. “Similar how?” 

Lumi calmly placed her off hand at juncture of his shoulder and wiped the blue at the base of his hairline. “They took a survey where they gave people a color wheel and had them pick what color their aura was, like sunset orange or buttercream yellow, and then describe their semblance using words from a list.” She grabbed another cotton round and continued. “There were categories like ‘elemental,’ ‘active’ and ‘motion-based.’ When they did an analysis on all of the responses, they found that…” 

On she went, though she made sure to pepper in questions asking if he was okay. She stopped to grab her water bottle when she got to his jaw, then picked up with details about new research from Atlas about aura potentially being stored and transferred, like how blood was donated. 

“There’s some worry about people being aura compatible, but there’s more concern about the fact that aura’s difficult to capture in the first place.” She said and scrubbed lightly at his cheekbone. “Only people with good control can willingly donate aura, but it doesn’t like to stick around for long outside of the body so that’s a problem too. Actually, there’s a lot of problems, but those are the main- two? Three? They’re kind of linked.” She waved air at his twitching eye to dissipate the menthol-scented alcohol. 

“Whatever you do in life,” he half-slurred. “Don’t ever volunteer to be part of an Atlesian study.”

“Uh, okay?” Odd that he was slurring despite not drinking, but it wasn’t really a concern considering that she had one hand cradling his jaw. “Close this eye, please,” she tapped the side of his head with one finger. “Good, now where was I? Oh yeah, problems with aura transfusions. Some people have theorized that transfusions within the same color family will work best because…” 

By the time she finished getting the blue off of his face, her throat was starting to hurt and he was as calm as she’d ever seen him- a little too calm actually. Aside from her throat being strained, she felt the same sort of tired that came from using aura but… she hadn’t used aura? She pursed her lips and grabbed her scroll to check, only to find that her levels were _not_ at full. 

“Well, fuck,” she swore quietly then cleared her throat and called, “Hey, Branwen, are you awake?” 

His head jerked up and he blearily looked at her, “Yeah, uh-huh.” 

“Did you fall asleep?” Her brows rose of their own accord. 

“Nah,” he said with a yawn. 

He totally did, but the question was why? Rubbing alcohol wasn’t exactly a soothing scent even if it was menthol, and she’d been cleaning ink from his face. That should have kept anyone awake, even if she’d played the part of a white noise machine as she rambled. 

Well actually, maybe that was it- she’d bored him to sleep with her voice or he found the subject of aura studies incredibly boring. But rambling about a dry topic shouldn’t have been enough, he’d have to think her so little a threat even when leaking aura (??) that he could fall asleep without worrying about an attack. 

Wonderful. Her ego shrunk to the size of a grape and she hurried home with a bright, embarrassed blush on her face.


	11. Chapter 11

Lumi threw herself into training that weekend to try and work off the embarrassment. She’d mostly made peace with that fact by the time she walked into school on Monday, but then she remembered she had Brawen’s class after lunch and panicked. Her worry was for nothing, however, because there was a substitute for his class that day and she breathed a sigh of relief- which quickly morphed back into worry when she thought about why he wasn’t there. 

She’d lost a noticeable chunk of aura when she was cleaning ink off his face, and maybe it hadn’t dissipated like she’d thought but rather transferred over and- her heart stuttered- poisoned him (somehow). Was that even possible? And if it was, did she accidentally do so to such a degree that it would kill him!?

She shook her head to clear it of the admittedly crazy thoughts and carried on with her day. He had to be in his forties (?) and had been a Hunstman since he was at least twenty one, so what could she do with a smidgen of aura that hordes of Grimm couldn’t accomplish with nearly twenty years of attacks? 

Still, something unknotted itself in her chest when she saw him on Tuesday. He looked considerably worse for wear but he was alive so Lumi let out a sigh of relief. However, there was another reading assignment on board which made her relief at seeing him alive shrink considerably because she knew for a fact that she was going to have to grade everything while he sat there looking miserable. 

Though when she got a better look at him, her irritation at having work dumped on her lessened because he did look miserable. Dark smudges beneath his somewhat bloodshot eyes, clothes askew and hair the sort of messy she recognized as being from when he ran his hands through it one too many times. 

Those details, plus the fact that he kept rubbing his temples and rifled through his pockets only to come up empty handed made her think he’d left his flask at home, or lost it somehow. All in all, not a great picture. She scribbled a few half-assed answers on her paper just to have an excuse to be at his desk and walked up. 

She pitched her voice softer than usual. “Hey, Branwen, are you okay?” 

He grunted. 

Yeah, she assumed as much. “Not to implicate myself or anything,” she laid the paper onto the turn-in pile. “But if you need something… strong to drink I might have coincidentally found something like that…”

He narrowed his eyes at her. 

“I think it was on the roof of the building during passing period…” she trailed off with a nervous smile and took the wooden bathroom pass without asking. “Well, I hope you feel better soon.” 

His pointed stare followed her all the way out the door. Once in the hallway, Lumi shadow-stepped to the bus stop then across the bay to the edge of Vale. She stopped for a breather, then melted through the shadows to her room where she picked up a small bottle of bourbon and pack of sticky notes.

The trip back was slightly more difficult because traveling through the shadows over long distances left her winded and dizzy, but she pressed on and appeared on the roof of the building with a few steps. She plopped down on the floor and breathed deeply until she didn’t feel like passing out, then scribbled a scarecrow with a cape onto the sticky note and slapped it onto the bottle. 

Hopefully her teacher would think it was funny because when she looked at it she couldn’t hold back her giggles. Another step deposited her on the floor of the bathroom (gross) so she pushed herself up and washed her hands to kill time. She walked back to class, only slightly unsteady, and handed the bathroom pass to one of her classmates that was lingering by the door. 

Lumi ignored the disappointed look Branwen sent her way and pulled out her Scroll. The class was halfway over, and she’d already finished her work so it wasn’t like he could call her out for being off-task. She pointedly ignored him until he looked away then continued to browse Timblr until class ended. 

When she walked into detention, her teacher had his head pillowed onto his arms and didn’t look up to greet her- which either meant he was resting after being around noisy kids all day or had choked on his own vomit and died. 

“Please don’t be dead,” she whispered to herself and tapped her nail against the edge of his desk. 

He stirred just enough to lift his head above his arms, notice it was her, and lay back down. 

He wasn’t dead, huzzah! But it was probably a sign of something very wrong that she had to worry about that fact twice in one day. 

“Don’t panic,” she said softly and laid her hand over the smashed spikes in his hair with a generous amount of Aura for a moment. 

He hummed low in his throat and blinked up at her. “Thanks, kid.” He re-buried his face in his arms. 

... What was the point of helping him if he was just going to fall back asleep?! She scowled and resisted the urge to go home immediately- she had two days of work to catch up on, after all, and one of them had to be responsible. 

She was nearly done grading Monday’s work when Branwen finally sat up with a jaw-cracking yawn. Lumi watched as he opened a drawer, pulled out the bottle of bourbon she’d given him and knocked it back like water. 

She wondered why she had ever worried about accidentally killing him- he obviously wasn’t human. Grimm, long-term alcoholism, potential Aura poisoning; the only way he’d die was if Death itself arm-wrestled him and cheated. 

“Ya know, you’re really not helpin’ your case with this.” He turned red (but not bloodshot) eyes her way and waved the bottle in the air.

Oh fuck off, she thought sourly, it helped you didn’t it? 

“I know you like dark liquor,” she said with a tight smile. “And I know how to handle hungover Hunters.” 

He took another drink, probably sensed her suddenly hostile mood, and didn’t bring it up again.

________________________________________

As a show of goodwill, and because she’d already promised herself that she’d do so, Lumi brought in the thin booklet of quick recipes the next day and presented them with a flourish to a much healthier looking Branwen. 

“Since my time in detention is coming to an end, and you’ve told me you can’t cook to save your life using the stove,” she exchanged the recipes for ungraded work. “I wrote this up for you.” 

“You still have two weeks after this one, kid.” he said off-handedly as he flipped through the pages. 

What. 

At her bewildered expression he drawled, “Winter break doesn’t count for time served- you weren’t at school.” 

She sighed. “Keep it anyways,” she was going to drown herself if this week continued the way it had been. “If you can prep some things ahead of time, at least your next hangover won’t be so bad.” 

“Thanks, how generous of you,” his tone was so sarcastic that she couldn’t tell if he was being sincere and using a sarcastic tone to cover his thanks or if he was honestly messing with her. “Can you do my grocery shopping too?”

“Sure. I mean,” she shrugged and decided to go with ‘sincere but unable to show it because he’s a snarky prick.’ “We have time so we could go if you want.” 

He stared at her with the same bewildered look she’d just given him. 

She dropped the grading onto his desk- he could do it for all she cared. “Just saying,” she turned on her heel and strolled over to her seat. 

Halfway there, he said, “Alright, I guess. Get your things and let’s go.” 

“Wait,” she said and looked at him over her shoulder. “Are you being serious? Are we really going to go grocery shopping?” This was surreal. 

He snorted. “You can stay to grade papers if you want, but I’m going.” 

“No, no,” she protested and hurried to get her Scroll, wallet and coat. “You just caught me a little off guard, that’s all. I mean, why?” 

“I grew up outside the Kingdoms,” he offered and stuck his hands into the pockets of the coat she’d help find for him a while back. “How much do you think I enjoy pushing around a squeaky metal cart?” 

Point taken. “How are we getting there?” 

He shrugged. “Your legs aren’t broken, are they?” 

“No,” she held out her hand to him. “But I know a quicker way- my Semblance.” 

He eyed her suspiciously. “How likely is it that you’ll drop us off the top of a building?” 

“I’ve been to the Maple Shopping Center a bunch of times- we’ll be fine,” she assured him and stuck her hand out a little more.

Qrow looked at his desk, at her, then back at the desk. If he was going to do this, he was going to get in one last drink, just in case. He nodded to himself, did just that then wrapped his hand around her outstretched one- which was tiny and he wondered how she managed to get anything done- then he blinked as a cold seeped through his coat, into his core, and shocked him out of thought entirely for a second. 

Lumi was already walking forward when his spinning mind caught up to his feet and he allowed her to pull him along. Transforming to his bird form didn’t hurt and neither did her Semblance, but out of the two he would prefer to never do the second again for as long as he could help it. 

The heat of the grocery store brought him back to reality. He shook his head and shivered. 

“-o you usually get?” his quiet little student with the unsettling semblance asked. 

“Pasta, bread, cheese,” he said and let go of her hand. “Simple shit.” 

“Ah-huh,” she clucked her tongue. “So what do you think of enchiladas? Also, how much are we getting- like one meal, or a week’s worth of food, or what?” 

“Sounds good and… a week?” he responded and dug around his pocket to make sure he had his bank card. “Go wild, kid.” 

“Great!” she said and pulled out her Scroll. “So what size Pyrrex do you have at home? That’ll help me decide how much of everything to get.” 

“What the hell is that?” he watched her pluck two loaves of bread off a rack and type something with one hand. 

She stopped mid-type and turned to him. After staring at him in the eye for just a beat too-long, she sighed with her entire body- the dramatic brat- and finished typing. 

“It’s your new best friend,” she murmured and pushed the cart to the nearby produce aisle. 

Weird. 

He followed at her side as she navigated the barely wide enough linoleum aisles and threw in a few snacks while she deliberated between two nearly identical cans of cream of chicken. Like all grocery stores, this one had boring music softly playing in the background and eye-straining bright ads plastered about. A few aisles over, a baby started crying and he heard the clunk-clunk-clunk of a busted wheel cart clopped along as the kid’s harried mother rushed to the front of the store while shooshing the distressed toddler. 

“Hi sir, do you and your wife need any help?” an employee with a perky attitude and pockets full of coupons asked. 

He didn’t have a- wait.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Lumi answered for him with a smile and a gleam in her eye. “Come along, dear,” she stressed the word and everything in him revolted. “We need to hurry or we’ll never beat traffic.” 

He ignored the employee’s generic speech about finding her if they needed help and focused on herding his very clearly teenaged student to the next aisle. 

“Never do that again for as long as you live,” he hissed when they were clear from prying eyes and ears. 

“Yes sir,” she grabbed a can of tomato sauce and tossed it in. 

“Urgh,” his face screwed up in disgust. “That’s almost worst.” 

She leaned against the cart and laughed at him long enough for him to regret ever asking her to do his grocery shopping. She must have caught sight of his face because the next thing she said was, “sor- hah!- sorry, Branwen” (and didn’t sound sorry at all). 

“Why’d she think we were married anyways?” he spat the word. “You’re obviously-“ he motioned with his hands at slightly shorter than shoulder level. 

“Yeah, but civilians aren’t all that tall,” she tugged on a strand of her hair. “And my hair is grey. Also, you’re not bad looking for your age. She probably thought I was older and you were a little younger.” 

How flattering. Well, he thought with a bit of pride, if that was the reason- “Wait, whaddya mean ‘for my age’?” He scowled at her as the words sunk in. “I ain’t old.” 

Lumi smiled and pat his arm. “Would you happen to have rice at home?” 

She deftly re-directed his attention by rambling about what they still needed to grab, asking what he wanted to make and sending him to different aisles to get anything she “forgot.” At the end of the grueling, boring ass trek around the store she finally showed him what Pyrrex was (a glass pan) and added it to the cart. They strolled up to the front, she took one look at the lines, asked if he wanted a coffee (he didn’t) and then abandoned him by walking out the store without ever looking back. 

Traitor. He’d remember this when it was time to send in grades.

After eighteen torturous minutes in line where he regretted not bringing the bourbon with him for every second of it, he made it to the front and nearly made the cashier piss themself if the look on their face was anything to go by. 

Qrow nearly stomped off without the groceries when the kid behind the counter asked him how many bags he wanted. “How the hell should I know? I haven’t bagged anything yet.” 

“R-right, um,” their fingers hovered over the number keys. “I can- I’ll wait until you finish then add it to the end?” 

He grunted and started shoving things in reusable bags- bags that he had a pile of at home but never bothered to remember that he had until he was paying for another week’s worth of food and had nothing to put everything in. 

The kid was more than happy to punch in a few numbers and quickly swipe his card- then swipe again when the reader didn’t work and swipe a third time before manually entering in all the information. They handed over the receipt like the paper would catch fire and waved the next customer forward. 

Thoroughly done with stores, he marched out to the sight of an enthusiastic man talking to a bored-looking Lumi and had to hold back a sigh as he called, “Hey buddy, she’s not interested.” 

Then the man turned on him with a smile and said “Oh, my apologies- but we have a lovely couple’s packa-“

Qrow felt the urge to punt him across the shopping center but was stopped when Lumi tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and transported them back to Signal without a word. Thankfully, she didn’t let him suffer this time and tapped his cheek with a bit of Aura to get his head and his body to agree on what was up and what was down again. 

“Let’s get you to a kitchen,” she tugged on his arm. “I’m sure you’re hungry after all that.” 

He made a sound that she took for an affirmative and quickly led him to one of the student kitchens. After a glance to her Scroll, she typed in an ID number that wasn’t hers and the door swung open. Her teacher, thankfully was past caring and as soon as he set the bags down on the island he started rifling through them for snacks. 

When he had a bag of barbeque chips in hand, she herded him over to the stove and gathered all the ingredients for the first part of the enchiladas. 

“It’s important to heat the spices first,” she said and scooped a heaping tablespoon of chili powder into the deep pan. “So you can wake up the flavor.” 

He munched a chip and raised a brow. 

Lumi wondered when their roles had reversed but explained anyways. “The heat will break down the spice and release more of the flavor.” She added a few more spices, stirred, then motioned to the ground beef. “We’ll add the beef next, and I’ll need you to cook it so I can get the rest started.” 

“M’kay,” he scrunched up the empty bag and threw it aside. 

Browning hamburger meat wasn’t terribly difficult so he watched her with half an eye as she opened the can of red chile sauce and poured an inch thick layer onto a smaller pan. While it heated, she took the Pyrrex to the sink and washed it then patted it dry with paper towels- which seemed a little excessive since they were going to pop it into a hot oven, but whatever. 

She opened a few more things (cheese, black olives, and chopped green chiles) then dipped corn tortillas into the sauce and removed them after a few seconds. She layered the tortillas first, then reached over him and emptied the green chiles into the meat. 

“When it’s done browning, pour some red sauce onto it and you can layer the rest,” she rinsed her hands in the sink. “Oh, and pre-heat the oven to 325. It only needs to cook for twenty five minutes, so that’s pretty easy to remember.” 

She picked up her jacket and shrugged it on. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to cook the red rice and beans too. Good luck!” 

“See ya,” he said and contemplated how to finish cooking everything.

________________________________________

A famous playwright had popularized the saying “beware the ides of March” but considering that Lumi’s birthday was on that day, she didn’t put much stock into the sentiment. As it was, she was dressed in a crisp white button down with a pleated bib and a bright pink skirt over black tights with a pair of ankle boots. Dressed to the nines (okay, not that fancy- to the sevens?) she arrived at school optimistic about life until Marshal, the classmate whose ID she had used to gain access to the student kitchen, cornered her just before first period. 

“What the hell did you do yesterday?” she hissed. 

“What do you mean?” she placed a hand on her hip and shifted her stance. 

“I _mean_ that the kitchen caught fire yesterday and my ID pops up as the person using it,” the dog ears atop her head pointed forward. “If I hadn’t been in track practice all the way across campus the teachers would be hounding me to pay for damages! They’re already on my back about my grades, and then this happened, so what did you do?!”

She glanced at the ceiling and prayed to whatever entity that was listening to grant her strength. She dodged explaining anything by placating her with the offer of an extra can of Bolt! Energy with her next order and a promise that if she did end up having to pay for anything, she’d cover it instead. Marshal grumbled but agreed and left her alone after Lumi offered her a cupcake. 

Of course, on her birthday of all days, she had to deal with something like this. 

She sighed and sat down. It was easy to listen in on her classmate’s conversations and put together a vague picture of what happened, especially when she selectively offered cupcakes to a few key people. As a result, she found out some new bits of gossips (apparently someone tried to hack into the gradebook to give themselves an A but got caught) and had streams of people wishing her happy birthday and complimenting her outfit all day.

The situation was this: someone used Marshal’s ID to get into one of the student kitchens. That same someone somehow set fire to a pan. It was probably full of cooking oil if the bottle left behind was any indication. Most likely that person added water to hot oil which caused the fire, then promptly fled when adding more water didn’t put out the flames. 

There was also the rumor that someone was trying to burn down the school, or to frame Marshal in order to get her kicked off the track team, but Lumi didn’t put any weight to those because 1) she wasn’t an idiot and 2) she knew exactly who was at fault for the fire and she knew exactly how she was going to put that information to use. 

Lumi sidled up to Yang during lunch and nudged her with a sly smile. “Guess what your uncle did.” 

“Did he release two pigs painted ‘1’ and ‘3’ on campus again?” she asked with a head tilt. 

Wha- again? No, wait, focus! 

“Uh, I’m gonna go with ‘no,’ or at least I didn’t hear anything about it,” Lumi picked up her glass of milk. “Have you heard about the kitchen fire yet?” 

“Just that this one Faunus girl tried to burn the school down,” she shrugged. “Which sounds really fake because isn’t she like, the number one pole vaulter or something?” 

“Yeah, Marshal’s first rank in her division,” she explained. “But it wasn’t her.” 

“Then wh- ohhh,” Yang’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Yup,” she smiled around the plastic straw. “Got any other embarrassing stories about him? He’s always teasing me and I want to even the playing field a little, ya know?” 

Yang chuckled, “Okay, so you didn’t hear this from me, but this one time…” 

Lumi listened attentively and took mental notes. She hadn’t forgotten that Branwen had responded to her attempt to guilt a Stirbucks gift card out of him (because he’d cracked her ribs) with almost complete indifference (and a threat to fail her). 

She walked into Weapons class ten minutes early and dropped her things on the table. Branwen looked up as she approached with a pack of cupcakes and eyed her speculatively. 

“Another presentation for class?” he motioned to her outfit and took the treat. 

“No,” she did a small twirl to show off. “It’s my birthday today.” 

“Explains the cupcake,” he licked the obnoxiously blue frosting (yes, that was on purpose). “Aren’t you cold?” 

“Not really,” Lumi loved fashion, but she also loved not freezing to death so she’d taken precautions when dressing that morning by layering (and making it look like she hadn’t done so because the Look was incredibly important). She could see how he, a man with maybe five different shirts, would be mystified though. 

“You’re… fifteen, right?” he asked off-handedly while stuffing his face with the second cupcake she’d handed over. 

“Wow, you’re so bad at ages, I bet you bought Ruby a ‘happy tenth birthday’ card last year,” she deadpanned and watched in glee as he choked at the truth. “I’m seventeen today, by the way.” 

“You, seventeen?” he scoffed. “No way.” 

“Yes way,” she mocked. “And you’re what, fifty four?” 

He ripped off a piece of the cake and threw it at her. “It might be your birthday but don’t think I won’t knock you down, kid.” 

“First you break my ribs, then you smash me into the ground and pin me with your dirty shoes, and now you’re threatening to beat me up?” she placed a hand on her chest in mock-outrage. “On my birthday?” 

“Gods you’re dramatic,” he said dismissively. “Go sit and I won’t kick you six ways to Sunday.” 

She sniffed haughtily. “Fine, but I guess now everyone’s going to find out who really set that fire yesterday…” 

“You wouldn’t,” he accused. 

She smiled enigmatically and retreated to her seat. Before Branwen could finish setting her on fire with his eyes, the bell rang and students streamed in. She internally cackled and replayed her sweet, sweet victory in her mind while calmly flipping through her literature book without reading. 

Okay, so she had a small flare for the dramatic- he hadn’t been wrong about that- but she was only going to torture him until afterschool when she could finally coax that gift card from him. That thought in mind, she passed the rest of the day in a pleasant mood, made better by the people who continued to wish her happy birthday. She was smiling like an idiot when she made her way to detention. 

Her teacher wasn’t there (coward!) so she grabbed that day’s work and settled into her usual routine. Not ten minutes later, the door opened and three things happened at the same time. First, the light above her flickered, swayed, and came crashing down. Second, Branwen dropped to a defensive position. Third, she flinched horribly, which threw off her center of gravity and sent her careening to the side where she smashed her cheek and nose against another stool and slammed onto the floor. 

Curled up on one side in a bed of shattered glass with her legs painfully tangled in the bars of the chair, her nose quickly became a bloody mess. She glanced up with tears in her eyes at the sound of approaching footsteps and watched her teacher kneel at her side. 

Her mind felt off-kilter and dizzy but she managed to croak, “Is this what you meant when you said you’d knock me down?” she blinked away tears but they came back with a vengeance. “Because I was only joking, earlier.”

He stared at her with incredulity written across every inch of his face. “What.” 

“Please get me a napkin,” she said instead and flared her aura around her ankles. 

He sighed, still bewildered, and gently picked her up. Her legs had only been a touch hurt when she’d fallen, so her stance was steady when he set her on her feet. She wiped away tears and a smear of mascara came with it. 

“I was having such a good day,” she said and wept just a little from the mood whiplash. 

Qrow hovered uselessly at her side, unsure if he should get her something to clean her face with or wait until after she broke down or just flee entirely. 

She decided for him by drawing closer and tucking herself against his side while she lit both hands with aura and healed her face with minimal fuss. He wrapped a hesitant arm around her and even though he didn’t say anything, she got the feeling that he wanted to be far, far away from the situation. 

She straightened after a minute or two and made sure to angle her face away from him as she walked over to the sink. Crying and bloodied, she knew for a fact that she didn’t make a pretty picture and he was already uncomfortable with it all. 

Thankfully, there was soap in the dispenser and when she was done scrubbing her face there was a clean rag sitting to the side for her. Her teacher, however, was nowhere to be seen. At her desk she found a sticky note that said “Go home early. Happy birthday.” All of the glass had been swept aside. 

She wasn’t really in the mood to smile even if it was kind of cute, so she packed her things and shadow stepped away. She used the airbus ride to calm down and clean up some of the finer details of her face. When she walked in the door her siblings were crowded around a cardboard box with cat toys. 

“Hey, uh… you’re home early?” Ash looked up first and jabbed his elbow into Nocte’s arm. 

“SURPRISE!” Nocte threw her arms to the side and “accidentally” hit Ash in the face. “WE GOT A KITTEN!” 

“I’m naming it,” she said and dropped her bag next to the couch as her darling siblings smacked at each other. She peeked over the edge of the box to see a wild ball of fur valiantly attempting to scale the walls. It mewed at her and she felt tears in the corner of her eyes from how cute it was. 

“It’s a boy cat,” Nocte informed her. “And he already had shots plus” she made a scissor motion with her fingers. “You know.” 

He reached the top of the box and mewed again. In the light, she could see that he had a black coat threaded through with a few silver hairs and pale blue eyes. His fur was fuzzy, like wool and when she ran a finger across the top of his paw (so tiny!!) it was dense and coarse but pleasant. 

She started laughing when a potential name popped into her head and had to excuse herself to get a glass of water. When she was collected, she pulled out her Scroll and snapped a few pictures of the kitten playing. She couldn’t contain the fresh bout of giggles that bubbled up her chest when she sent a pic of the kitten to Ruby. 

“ITS SO SMALL ASDFKJM WHATS ITS NAME” she sent back. 

Lumi smiled, “dont tell your uncle but its…”


	12. Chapter 12

The CPS check-up was on the Friday following Lumi's birthday but she wasn't worried about it because she was freshly seventeen and no longer a minor. She was so unconcerned about the check-up in fact, she forgot that Mrs. Huang would be the one to do the inspection.

Lumi let the orange-haired woman into the house and bit back the sour look that rose up on sight of her. They'd never gotten along and although she couldn't remember how it all had started, she knew that Huang had it out for her so she stuck to the counselor's side as she ticked off boxes and jotted down short comments on the forms while they toured the house.

As it was wrapping up (which was to say, as Lumi not-so-subtly hinted for her to leave) she managed to gleam one surprising tidbit from the older woman; Mr. Xiao Long been the one to call CPS.

She smiled and shut the door behind the counselor, then flared her Semblance as dark as it would go and sank into the shadows.

\---

Lumi's temper had a tendency to turn inward rather than outward, but even she couldn't deny how cathartic it was to push her body to its limits and slaughter Grimm left and right, alone in the Emerald Forest.

She'd first fled from her house to her favorite rooftop, then after half an hour of stewing in her own vicious thoughts she'd gone home to grab her weapon and jacket and ended up in Forever Fall. A dozen Grimm later, she was at the edge of Beacon and shadow-stepped further into the green gloom of the trees.

She slammed her feet against the spine of a Nevermore and unloaded a trio of arrows into the base of its head. The inky black smoke of its body billowed around her like a monstrous cloud as it died and she stepped out of the way. In her right hand Polaris reverted to baton form and Lumi wiped her forehead as the day caught up with her.

After the initial shock, it hadn't taken her long to connect the dots between her trip to the movies with Yang and Ruby while injured, their dad, and the sudden CPS visit. It had, in hindsight, been somewhat obvious and she wondered why she hadn't realized it sooner (then she remembered the weeks of fitful sleep and tension between her and Branwen which had drained her and made it near impossible to dwell on the question of who called in order to focus on surviving the incident).

While it was true that her initial suspicions had been aimed her Weapons teacher, he hadn't confessed to it when they'd argued and was completely unsurprised that someone would call social services on her. What was it that he'd said about her? Oh yeah, that she "looked like the poster child for abuse."

Something ugly and dark rose in her stomach at the memory and she surveyed her surroundings for any Grimm. None appeared, but she wasn't fool enough to think they'd stay away so she shadow-stepped back into to town and made her way on foot to the nearest Stirbucks with the help of her trusty Scroll.

For all that she was small and not particularly strong, she wasn't weak and she hated that Branwen of all people would think she was so pathetic and helpless. That thought burned more than the fact that Mr. Xiao Long, whom she had no notable interactions with, had called CPS on her. He'd likely only called because his daughters let something just damning enough slip- she couldn't even find it in herself to be mad at Ruby and Yang for that and that was entirely the source of her new year woes.

Lumi grabbed up her order from the pick-up counter and limped over to an out of the way armchair. Caffeine wasn't going to untangle the knotted black threads of thoughts and feelings she'd ignored for months, but hell if it the warmth and familiar taste wouldn't make her feel better for as long as the drink lasted.

She was halfway through the hot, bitter coffee and in somewhat a better mood when her Scroll rang. She tapped a button to mute the vibrations and finally noticed the time- nearly nine o' clock. A heavy sigh broke past her lips.

She didn't have a curfew, so to speak, but her dad usually wanted her to be in the house by eleven and was probably worried because she'd left before he even got home. There was also the fact that (unbeknownst to the two of them) she'd lied to both her parents about why she wasn't going along with her mother's weekend custody visit and well, it was a Friday night. Her dad had been young once, too.

To soothe her dad's potential concerns, she waited until the random call ended then snapped a quick pic of her Stirbucks drink and sent it with the tagline "grabbed something to drink after group project- will take next airbus home see u soon." It was apparently enough for him, because he sent back "going 2 bed, love u." She smiled at the cute message despite the knot in her stomach and gathered her things.

It was easy to walk between the long shadows that crossed the streets and the still darkness that encompassed her room. She plopped onto her bed and undid the laces of her boots while she listened to the distant sound of running water of her dad's shower and the classic rock he liked to listen to drift through the air vents.

________________________________________

Lumi spent the weekend in self-reflection, for lack of anything better to do and because she desperately needed to work through all the shit she'd been pushing aside. It was eating her insides and quite frankly, she was sick of it. The hazy hours spent fighting Grimm had done well to calm her temper, but her heart and her head were off-kilter and that made it difficult to do focus on anything other than her thoughts. She did, eventually, parse her problems into a few distinct categories and came to a few realizations.

Realization number one: she liked Branwen- a lot- and despite the fact that she didn't have good experiences with adults, she might even say she loved him

Realization number two: Outside of her family and Calypso, his opinion mattered the most to her out of all the people she knew (and wasn't that just fuckin' sad? He was her teacher and had given her detention but he was also her closest friend). Also, she should probably come clean to him about what was actually going on just to set the record straight.

Realization number three: she was (legally) and adult and needed to drop her toxic mother as soon as she could safely extricate herself.

Which, yeah- duh. It only made sense that the two-ish major revelations of her weekend were about the two biggest stressors in her life, but she'd been running herself ragged to balance them until she was in a better position to do something and that wasn't conductive to long-term planning or rational thought. That said, she was not looking forward to the conversation with her mother about cutting back on weekend visits and she wondered if it was more likely that she could gradually disengage or if she could just stop showing up cold turkey.

Ugh, she was going to need another weekend to tackle that problem.

As it was, Monday rolled around before she could sludge through the rest of her issues so she tucked them away and focused on her classes. Well, she tried to anyways. Thoughts of emotional confrontations with her mother didn't exactly like to wait idly in the back of her mind. It wasn't until mid-way through her Wednesday detention that she realized both she and Branwen were quieter than usual. Friday, Monday and Tuesday had passed with minimum words between, almost reminiscent of her first few weeks of detention except neither of them had stepped up to be the designated conversationalist. Today, too, was shaping up to be the same way but that didn't exactly sit well with her.

"Hey, Branwen," she called gently. "I got a kitten for my birthday."

"Good for you," he said and swept beneath a table.

That… wasn't encouraging. Had she done something to annoy him?

"Do you think you can guess his name?" she tucked a lock behind her ear. "He's mostly black with a little grey. Oh, and he has blue eyes."

"No idea," he shrugged.

"I named him after my favorite teacher," she hinted with a small smile.

"Ember?" he flipped a stool onto the table.

"No," she grimaced. "I would never wish that on him."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but there was no familiar grin, no playful eyebrow raise.

Lumi waited a beat for him to guess, but he didn't respond and her heart skipped. "His name's Kuro. It kind of sounds like 'Qrow' if you say it right- and it means 'black'." Her smile was weak and strained. "I thought it fit because he's a black cat even if it's not very original…"

He hummed but didn't otherwise react and kept on cleaning. It felt to her that she was being an annoyance and that given the choice he would gladly be far, far away. Thinking back on it, this wasn't the first time she'd ever felt like that with him.

It hurt. Her stomach dropped to her feet. She tried to think why he'd changed, but nothing jumped out at her. The "coincidentally finding" a bottle of bourbon on the roof things might have displeased him, but the day after he was fine and they were back to normal so it couldn't have been that.

So what was it? The CPS check had nothing to do with him, and in any case that had gone down perfectly. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and kept her head down for the rest of the hour. On the trip home she grabbed Stirbucks as consolation and set her mind to figuring out what was up with her teacher. By the next day's detention, she hadn't figured it out and was quickly coming to the conclusion that there was nothing to figure out. She hadn't done anything to irritate or piss him off, not more than usual anyways. If anything, she'd been better behaved this week because she'd been so caught up in her own thoughts. Unless she'd missed his birthday (and a quick text to Ruby assured her that it was still a ways away) then there was nothing else she could think of.

Maybe he was tired of her? She generally tried to stay out of his way and not bother him too much aside from teasing (and being teased by) him, but maybe he didn't like the recent turn in their relationship? She wouldn't exactly describe grocery shopping as an intimate, personal affair but it wasn't like just anybody would do that together so perhaps she'd overstepped some unknown boundary?

Or, some vicious voice in the back of her mind pointed out, maybe him thinking she was weak, annoying and overbearing wasn't a new thing. In the beginning, he might've just acted like he cared to avoid problems and now that she had a week and a half left of detention, he didn't feel the need to put on airs anymore.

The thought was… painful, especially after her weekend revelations (and Oum, she should have known not to put her tender heart out there like that) but Lumi wasn't one to stick around where there was no love to be found.

She packed her bag and left quietly after she finished grading- her teacher didn't even say bye.

\---

Qrow was miserable. He knocked back a swig from his flask and slumped further into his seat. It wasn't in his nature to mope and aside from the hour he'd allotted to doing so when his Semblance reared its ugly head on Lumi's birthday, he hadn't.

But Lumi could be remarkably easy to read sometimes and she had somehow looked more downtrodden today than she had yesterday when he brushed aside her attempt at a conversation which dragged his traitorous heart through the mud.

It would be better, he reassured himself, if she could start to distance herself from him now, before something too bad happened. Her birthday had been a warning, and a reminder him of one vital fact he'd allowed himself to brush aside; he brought misfortune. He shouldn't be endearing sweet young women with bright futures to him, especially not to the degree he had with Lumi (who already had a laundry list of problems that could easily turn lethal if he lingered too long without an entire school of kids to dilute his bad luck).

Lumi walked up to his desk the next day during class with her partially gutted weapon in hand because the Universe was a cruel, cruel bitch and had to really drive the point home with an obvious metaphor.

"Mr. Branwen?" she queried politely with that annoying, polite tone he hadn't heard in months. "I'm doing maintenance on Polaris and something keeps getting stuck when I try to swap back to baton form, but I can't tell what. Can you help me?"

He shrugged and held out his hand for it. She placed it in his palm and made sure to not touch him. He fiddled with it for a few moments, then banged the bow against the table a couple of times and put his eye up to the scope from the wrong side. As he hunted for the issue, he flipped the weapon a few times and pressed the buttons he knew should transform the bow to a baton.

It whirred in his hands then emitted a sharp crunching sound, followed by a low grinding hum as Lumi shrieked. His eyes snapped to her terrified face as the bowstring sliced a shallow line through her cheek. Before he could so much as blink, she melted through the shadows at her feet- leaving him with her weapon and a nosey bunch of kids chattering about what had just happened.

Great, like he needed another example of why he shouldn't try to get close to people.

She reappeared a few minutes and quietly collected her still malfunctioning weapon. "Thank you for trying," she said without looking him in the eye and walked back to her seat.

Detention was more of the same, and aside from saying hi and bye, she didn't speak to him. She worked on grading (and didn't look at him) or her weapon (and didn't ask for help). Part of him was happy that his plan to put distance between them had worked, but despite the danger to her he missed their easy camaraderie and teasing.

He sighed and shrugged on his jacket (the one she found for him, he thought and vowed to leave it in his closet). It was Friday, and about thirty minutes until happy hour. There was a bar stool somewhere with his name on it.

________________________________________

"Kuro, Kuro, Kuro!" Lumi called and made cutesy clicking noises to draw the kitten from wherever it was hiding. "It's time to eat- where are you?"

She peeked beneath the couch and checked her dad's study for the third time. At twelve/nearly thirteen weeks old, Kuro wasn't quite big enough to climb the stairs yet, but that didn't stop him from trying so she made her way to the second floor.

"Kuro, Kuro," she pushed open Ash's bedroom door and clicked a few more times.

"Did you lose him?" Ash asked without looking up from his sketchbook.

"Mm, more like he's hiding from me," she said and tried not to flinch at the parallel between her kitten and the man he was named after.

"Try opening a can of tuna," he suggested when Lumi wrinkled her nose and poked at the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room.

She side-eyed him. "I've only fed him kitty kibble. Why would he be attracted to tuna?"

"Oh wow, I'm so into this drawing," he said and buried his nose into the pages.

Lumi hummed, flicked his forehead then strolled downstairs to get a can of tuna. From her few readings about feeding kittens, a little tuna every once in a while wasn't the worst thing for him but it was definitely a once-in-a-blue-moon treat and should not a staple part of his diet. She marched back upstairs and waved the can around until a flash of wooly-black fur shot out from her dad's room.

"Mrow," he whined pitifully and tried to climb her pant leg.

"You sound like we don't feed you," she scowled and scooped him up with one hand. He tried to squirm closer to the half opened can, but Lumi held him firmly and made her way back to the kitchen.

"I'm going to have a tuna sandwich," she told him. "And you're going to have kibble, you little brat."

He meowed in protest.

"Hmpf, fine. You can get a little, but that's it," she set him on the floor and hunted for a clean spoon. "Remind me to bully Ash into doing the dishes," she murmured and plopped a heaping teaspoon of tuna into his kibble.

He purred in delight and Lumi smiled at the greedy noises he made as he devoured everything in sight. She watched him a little while longer then rose and made her sandwich. Kuro mewled at her ankles, but she (somehow) maintained her resolve and resisted the urge to feed him. Her only weakness was cute things (and cute people) but after years of suffering puppy-dog eyes from both Nocte and Ash (sometimes at the same time!) she had built up a healthy resistance to pleas for extra food.

She plopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV. Kuro meowed imperiously and Lumi took a bite of her sandwich with vicious glee. "Oh look, What To Wear is on," she said and snickered at the affronted look Kuro fixed her with.

Ten minutes later, the round-bellied beast stalked off. She texted her siblings and told them that they were, under no circumstance, to feed the cat tuna unless she had given express permission then returned her attention to the wardrobe makeover miracle on-screen.

The doorbell rang during the opening of the next episode. She rose and answered it- and immediately regretted it.

"Hi, mom," she said with a strained smile.

"Where are your bags?" Verbena raised a brow.

"Didn't you get my texts?" Lumi frowned and shifted in place. "The little ones got me a kitten, and we can't leave him alone for a while. The vet says for up to a month, if he's not settling well."

She hummed and pursed her lips. "That's a long time to miss training."

"I've been staying afterschool to train," she explained (lied) quickly. "An extra hour every day."

"Signal keeps Grimm on campus?" She asked and placed her hand on her hip.

"No," she resisted the urge to sigh. "But they have simulations and archery ranges. Teachers stay behind and give pointers sometimes too, or they oversee spars. I can probably get dad to watch the kitten for a few hours tomorrow so I can train at campus, but well, you know how he is." She rolled her eyes and motioned typing with her hands.

"Very well," she said and dug into her pocket for her Scroll. "Get your brother and sister, then."

With a bob of the head she turned on her heel and left to do as told while wishing she could tell the other woman to kindly fuck off. Unfortunately, that wouldn't go over well and might actually earn her a broken jaw, so she knocked on Nocte's door with the three-two pattern they all used to indicate that their mom was there for them.

She repeated the knock on Ash's door and then leaned against the wall to listen to them scramble for their shoes and jackets with a chuckle. After years of weekend visits, one might expect them to be ready to go before their mother got there, but her darling little siblings never seemed to learn and always left a few things to the last minute. She consoled herself with the fact that at least they'd packed their bags after they got home from school.

Ash was first out and he threw his arms around her in a quick hug before he thundered down the stairs. "Bye!"

"Lucky," Nocte scrunched her nose but also gave Lumi a hug. "See you Sunday, I guess."

"I love you too, brat," she said and hurried her away. "Be good."

The white-haired girl rolled her eyes and waved over her shoulder. The front door closed with a firm click and Lumi allowed herself to slink back into the living room and stretch out on the couch. Aside from the TV, the house was silent and she basked in the quiet for a good while before she turned back to the on-screen makeovers.

Another weekend, alone with her thoughts- and she hadn't even broken her arm to get it! She rolled her eyes at the poor joke then let the soothing drone of the TV personalities wash over her. Maybe she'd hit the mall tomorrow…

\---

Lumi ended up hitting the gym and Emerald Forest rather than the mall after she put the finishing touches on Polaris, and was rewarded with a dislocated wrist, an ugly set of bite marks from a Beowolf along one hip and claw marks on the opposite shoulder and thigh. The wrist was easily set and healed, but she spent the rest of the weekend working on the rest and by Monday she only winced when she walked, sat, or got up.

Basically, she was always wincing and grimacing in pain and she chastised herself for doing something as stupid as fighting Grimm on her own. What did she expect to happen, with her thoughts all cloudy and no one to orient her steps against? She was lucky that she was so good at controlling her Aura or the Grimm's claws and teeth would have torn her to shreds before she was able to shove an arrow through the soft palette of its mouth into its brain.

"I'm a big dumb idiot," she hissed at herself and bit back a groan as she settled down to lunch. She ached, but not enough to justify taking another round of Tyrianols so she listlessly shoveled fries into her mouth and tried not to think too hard about any one thing.

Of course, Yang had to choose that exact moment to slide into the empty seat to her left with a suspiciously bright smile. "So," she began and drew out the sound. "How close would you say you are with my uncle?"

Lumi felt the look of suspicion and disgust make its way onto her face without conscious direction. What the fuck? There was no actual Grimm-damned way there was another rumor about them- once was enough!

"Why?" She pushed her plate aside and focused her full attention on the blonde.

Yang looked around. "He got drunk this past weekend- like, super drunk, to the point where my dad had to drag him home from the bar. He hasn't done that in a while, so yeah…" she rubbed the back of her neck. "I mean, you're like his, assistant right? So d'ya think you might know why?"

Okay, so not another rumor. On the other hand…

"Isn't he always drunk?" she bit a little sharper than she intended and stuffed her mouth with a handful of fries to prevent herself from saying anything more.

Her eyes narrowed. "Not to the point where he can't get home on his own."

She shrugged.

"Are you going to help me figure this out or not?" she huffed.

"Look, Yang, I'm probably not the best person to ask about this." She admitted with a bitter grin. "I may grade his papers, but he and I aren't exactly buddy-buddy, ya know?"

"Uh-huh," she said with a tone of disbelief. "You're not 'buddy-buddy' but you bought him a coat? And cooked for him? Right. Anyways, when you're done with… whatever's up with you, text me." She stormed off.

Lumi felt like scum of the earth, but that was tempered by a hearty dose of irritation and anger. What the hell was Yang expecting, a detailed account of Branwen's mental health and some entries from his diary? She had no more idea of what was wrong with him than she did.

And it wasn't like they were arguing or anything as clear cut as that- if that had been the case then she could make up with him and they could go back to normal and she might be able to piece together what the issue was. But for some Oum-forsaken reason he had suddenly turned a cold shoulder to her and that wasn't conductive to prying into his life.

Ugh, this whole thing was a fuckin' mess. She consoled herself with the fact that she hadn't caused this particular mess (unless this was about Branwen thinking she was a pathetic weakling and distancing himself, but somehow she doubted he'd drink himself into a stupor over that).

Speaking, or rather thinking, about him, she had his class next period and she seriously considered breaking her personal code of attending every class and ditching for the day. Her morals, sadly, won out so she hauled her half-healed body across campus and let herself into the workshop.

She was unsurprised to see Branwen already seated at his desk and waved hello but didn't talk. There was a reading assignment on the board so she copied it down and tried not to look his way- which was difficult because her brain kept picking up on subtle details about him and his state of being and that only prompted more looks his way.

Hair; slightly more tousled than usual from running his hands through it- out of nerves or stress? Clothes; topmost button not done- easier access to flask? Skin; somewhat paler than usual, but not as bad as last week's hangover- slight shadows under his eyes (poor sleep?). Posture; normal level of slumped over, maybe a little tenser? Habits; a pen in the pocket- oh, hadn't he lear-

She shoved the thought away. There was no reason for her to chastise him about keeping pens in his pocket. Like she'd told Yang, she and Branwen weren't friendly to each other- not anymore.

________________________________________

Hands in his pocket, Qrow turned a corner and walked down the hall where his workshop stood. Blossom had called him to the office to "discuss" whether or not he'd chaperone another fieldtrip to Beacon. His response had been a flat "no" and that hadn't gone over well, but it would take quite a bit of arm twisting to make him chaperone the spring trip. The only thing that could possibly, maybe make him consider it would be if he could drag a few third years along and make them "group leaders" to avoid responsibility. Even then, he grimaced at the idea of spending any amount of time stuck on an airbus with the first years. He got enough of those brats during class, thank you very much.

He pushed open the door and froze at the sight of his quiet little problem student in front of a tiny, dingy mirror by the sink. Clad in a tanktop that had ridden up to reveal angry claw marks and bruises on both sides of her pale stomach, her hands were alight with Aura as she wrenched her elbow behind her head to get the ragged, mostly healed lines on her shoulder and upper back.

If there ever was a reason to drink, this was it. He dug out his flask and knocked back a swig then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said in a voice much steadier than he felt, "What the hell happened to you?" His long legs quickly covered the distance despite his lazy pace.

"Oh, so now you care?" She quickly dropped her arms and tugged her top into place. "Funny how you don't bother talking to me until I'm cut up and bruised."

He took another drink and wondered exactly how drunk he was going to get by the end of whatever this was.

"I'm a teacher," he explained with a flat look. "In case you forgot, I'm responsible-" she snorted and shrugged on a cardigan. "For you, especially if you're that injured."

"Well I'm fine," she flared her Aura for half a second as proof.

"Uh-huh," he drawled and crossed his arms.

"I am," she insisted and fixed him with a glare.

He returned it with a fiercer one and took a step forward. He'd been a Huntsman longer than she'd been alive- there was no way she could intimidate him.

She didn't back down. "If you really want to talk about people who need help, then maybe we should sit and chat about why you had to be carried out of a bar this weekend."

"Who the fuck told you that?" he drew up to his full height.

Something flickered in her eyes then the shadows darkened around them. "Does it matter? I thought you could hold your drink, Mr. Branwen." She spit his name.

"Watch your tone," he growled. "And we're not talking 'bout me, kid, we're talkin' about what happened to you."

"No, we're not," she lifted her chin defiantly. "There's nothing to talk about."

He jabbed her shoulder and watched her recoil with a hiss. "Nothing, huh? How dumb d'you think I am that I can't tell grimm claw marks on sight?"

"Don't touch me!" She shouted and her purple eyes turned black.

Beneath them, the ground darkened into a depthless, formless void. He tried to move but found his feet stuck. A creeping coldness rose up through the soles of his feet and into his legs.

"You don't want to turn this to a fight," he said lowly. "Let me go, Lumi."

"Then keep. your hands. off me," she returned with venom and light rushed back into the area like the tide. "If my own mother doesn't get to put her hands on me, there's no way I'd give you that privilege." She kept her eyes trained on him.

"Oh, but you'll let Grimm take a bite out of you?" he pressed. "While she watches and does nothing?"

She flinched then steeled herself and stood tall. "I didn't go with her this weekend- not that it's any of your business- I went by myself." She caught his gaze. "I'm not weak, you know."

"Didn't say you were," he shot back and evaluated her with a sharp eye. This was not turning out well and his desire to help her warred against his plan to keep her safe by putting distance between them, but he couldn't just ignore her when she had a grimm-sized bite mark across her hip.

"No, you didn't," she conceded then sneered. "But you sure act like it with all your teacherly concern that 'suddenly' pops up when I'm injured - which is a little fucked up considering that you only just kicked me to the curb- and for what, Mr. Branwen?" She stepped forward. "Did you suddenly get over a savior complex or something? Are my problems not enough to keep your interest anymore?"

"You're really graspin' at straws here," he shot back instead of answering.

"Then explain it to me!" she threw her hands up. "Because your niece certainly thinks I know you well enough to figure out why you drank yourself dumb this weekend and-" she stopped suddenly and it was like someone had thrown a pot of water onto a smoldering fire. "And I'm starting to feel like I don't know you at all."

Keep her happy or keep her safe, he reminded his treacherous heart that ached at the sudden change in demeanor; happy or safe.

"Look," he started and sighed. "I don't think you're weak or anythin' like that, let's get that straight." He turned his sights to the mirror behind her. "But you're not safe around me- not with my Semblance." Ugh, he'd never been good with words but he was going to try at least. "I bring bad luck and you've got problems- serious problems that being around me will only make worse, get it?"

"Wha- I don't-" she shook her head and pleaded with her eyes. "I've been fine so far- I don't get why you're pushing me away now."

"Remember your birthday?" he reminded her with a firm but not unkind tone. "And your weapon malfunction- imagine if that had happened while you were out in the field."

She looked like she wanted to protest but he cut her off. "I don't want that on my hands- would you wish that on me, kid?"

"No," she sighed then ran her hands through her too long bangs. "But-"

"But nothing, I'm not budging," he informed her and turned on his heel. "You can get your things and leave early today- I'm not gonna stick around."

His dismissal had unmistakable tone of finality, and she was so tired of arguing. She gathered her stuff and left quietly though not without a few backward glances.

That was that.


	13. Chapter 13

Their argument sat bitter on Lumi’s tongue and even a too-sweet white chocolate mocha with caramel couldn’t lift her spirits. Branwen was just so- ugh! She didn’t understand how he could push her away after all the time they’d spent together. Sure, he said his Semblance was bad luck but what did that even mean? It wasn’t like Grimm had overrun her home and the sky had fallen because she was close enough to touch his shoulder or something. She was injured, but that wasn’t even remotely close to his fault- it was because she’d been a self-loathing idiot who thought fighting Grimm in a bad mood was a good way to cool down. 

Lumi kicked the baseboard of the cabinet in irritation and resumed chopping vegetables for dinner. When she nearly sliced her finger for the third time, she gave up on cooking and placed an order for pizza. She threw herself onto her bed and buried her face into a pillow with a groan. 

What was she going to do? 

She was in a foul mood the next day, which wasn’t exactly a big change from last week, but it was noticeable enough for Yang to ask her what was up despite the fact that the other girl was technically mad at her. 

“I had a fight with Branwen,” Lumi tucked a strand behind her ear. “But don’t worry, I don’t think he’s going to hit the bar because of it.” She tacked on after a beat, “Also, I didn’t find out what was wrong with him- sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Yang said an amused grin. “I think I just figured it out.” 

“Cool,” she drawled and adjusted her bag. “See you later.” 

The blonde waved over her shoulder and they hurried to their respective classes. 

For the most part, Lumi tried to focus on what her teachers were saying but it was more difficult the closer to third period it became. She despaired the state her grades would be in after two weeks of barely paying attention but there was nothing to be done for it except to either make up with Branwen or completely kick him out of her heart. 

And when she walked into detention after nearly being late to his class earlier, she still didn’t know which it would be.

________________________________________

By lunch on Wednesday, she was irritated that she’d spent so long worrying about things. Do or don’t, she chastised internally, just stop mucking around! Walking around so stressed out was both annoying and bad for her health. Her resolve to confront him afterschool wavered when she walked into Branwen’s class, but then quickly hardened when she noticed that he purposefully avoided looking her way. Well, that just wouldn’t do. She was going to tell him exactly how dumb he was being and they were going back to the way they were before and that was that!

Lumi marched out of class ready to take on the world, and walked to detention with a bundle of nerves in her stomach. A couple of hours ago confronting him had seemed like a great idea, but… Well, she wasn’t sure he would listen to her. Not about a topic he’d declared closed the last time it was brought up anyways. If she could disguise the talk on the other hand…

A tentative plan formed in her mind and she pushed open the door. “Branwen?” she called softly and clutched her bag’s strap in a death grip. 

“Yes?” he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. 

“Can I talk to you? It’s… kind of important.” She fiddled with the strap. “About my mom.” 

The dismissal died on his tongue. “Of course,” he said instead and brushed his fingers across the flask in his pocket. 

She crossed the workshop with hesitant steps and took her usual seat. She fidgeted in place then reminded herself that she was going to tell him the truth anyways- why not now? 

“My mother…” she began- sighed. “I found my semblance when I was nine years old. My parents were arguing- I don’t remember what about- and my mother got violent; broken glass, holes in the wall, screaming, the works…” she paused to collect her thoughts. ”So I wanted to get away, you know? To leave, but in a way that wouldn’t draw attention to myself.” 

He pursed his lips. 

“I ended up a few blocks away in a neighborhood I’d never been to before, but some police officers found me and took me home. After some, uh, questions about what I told the police, my mother was over the moon that I had found my semblance so young. It was like she was a whole new person, and I-“ she sucked her teeth. “I really wanted to keep that, so I told her that I wanted to be a Huntress, like her.” 

She pulled a pen cap from her pockets and rolled it between her fingers. “When I was ten she started training me, and well- if I didn’t naturally have good aura control then I certainly learned it quick.” Lumi smiled bitterly. “So what I’m trying to say is… I didn’t have a great home life growing up but its better now- even with all the bruises and cuts and stuff that you’ve seen me with.” 

She finally looked at him. “I know you’re worried about your semblance making things worse for me, but it hasn’t- it really hasn’t.” She cut off his protests. “In fact, you’re part of why my life has gotten better. These past few months have been leagues better than these last few years and-“ she averted her eyes. “You’re really important to me- which is to say- I like you… a lot, and I still want to be friends.” 

“Look, ki- Lumi, you’ll get hurt if you’re around me,” he told her and buried his face in one hand. 

“That’s the thing,” she exclaimed. “I’ve been getting hurt- for years!- but I’ve never had someone care so much before and stick around.” 

“More hurt,” he emphasized. “Things that’ll stay with you.”

“I would be hurt anyways,” she countered. “Don’t you want to at least make sure I’m not alone?” 

He hesitated. 

“I’m not asking to hang out with you for days on end, or talk on the phone for hours, but maybe once in a while- after I graduate- we could grab a coffee or something? ” She pleaded. “Or even just text?” 

She was staring at him with those earnest violet eyes and he shouldn’t; he really shouldn’t- she was so young, not even at Beacon yet, no matter what Yang said about how obviously important her companionship was to him, but- 

“Yeah, alright, fine,” he sighed and cursed his weak heart. “I can do texting.” 

Her face lit up like a sky full of fireworks and he couldn’t help but smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! All of Cobwebs and Crows :) It was a wild ride writing this thing from start to finish, and at well over 50,000 words it's my longest work to date but fear not- the sequel is already in the works and it's even longer. I've got over ten chapters done for that and a companion piece so keep your eyes open for it! 
> 
> It's mostly character focused like this fic, though I've woven a decent amount of plot into the story since it's set before/during Volume 5 (which supposedly drew influence from the Ba Sing Se arc in ATLA?). It's got exciting things like a Beach Episode (set at the local pool), Jaune actually grieving and Oscar being lost as hell because what do you mean I have to look through this big ass city for ONE person??? Is there a map?? Ozpin, Ozpin eXPLAIN,,,
> 
> There's also more worldbuilding centered around Aura Healing, the structure of Mistral, and SHOPPING TRIPS!! SO MANY SHOPPING TRIPS! (I would like to invite anyone who is currently clicking away to consider the fact that eight months on the road with only occasional stops to actual towns would WRECK your clothes so yes, the shopping trips are NECESSARY.) 
> 
> Also, because the writers are horrible about making a COHERENT, WORKING timeline, I've gone through the trouble of cobbling together my own. A little bit of retconning went into it (because otherwise that's a long boat ride from Vale to Menagerie that Sun was just creeping on Blake) so if anyone wants I can post it as a separate piece. 
> 
> You can find me on fanfiction.net as NotWeird or on Instagram at notweird_doodles. Well, that's all for now. See you lovely readers when I finish polishing chapter one of the sequel ;)


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